


Fleurs Captives

by ivorydice



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Captivity, Child Abuse, Drama, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Physical Abuse, Recovery, This is not a nice fic okay, Trauma, happily flipping off canon, lol i have no idea what this shit is how did this happen, mostly told through flashbacks, no romance/pairings, slightly dark?, tags will be added and tidied do not worry, the kids are totally not alright, there IS a plot, this is probably mostly noctis centric ngl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-11-10 18:49:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 38,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11132664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivorydice/pseuds/ivorydice
Summary: When it was all over, when the smoke had cleared and the bullets were removed from Regis’s body, he and the survivors searched Fenestala Manor high and low. They looked in every room and in every garden, behind every tree, in every bush.But it was useless. They were long gone.Ravus, Lunafreya,Noctis.They weregone.(Twelve years ago, when Tenebrae was under attack from the Empire, Noctis, Luna and Ravus were taken as captives. Now, the war has finally come to an end and, under the rules of surrender, the prisoners must be released back into Lucian care. Except helping them recover from their ordeal is a lot more difficult than anyone had anticipated.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What the fuck is this ahahahahaha. That summary is a MESS dear lord, I will fix that later. And oh god, the tags, THE TAGS. And this chapter is probably a mess because it's super early where I live and I have no brain and can't read it properly. DON'T WORRY, I TOTALLY KNOW WHAT I'M DOING, YOU CAN TOTALLY TRUST ME.
> 
> I am taking a lot of liberties with this story. Like, a lot. Just fyi. Updates on this will probably be slow as hell, I'm sorry, but the only reason I'm uploading this now is to encourage myself to actually work on this story and finish it, otherwise it'll just stay in my story folder and collect dust and never see the light of day lol.
> 
> Judging from what I've got planned, this probably isn't gonna be a nice story, just a heads up on that.
> 
> (Also, sorry Prompto fans, I'm not yet sure on how or if he'll make an appearance in this one.)
> 
> I am gonna regret posting this, aren't I lol?
> 
> Like always, I'll probably come back to edit through this if I see any mistakes or want to change things later on. Feel free to point out any mistakes/inconsistencies/etc!
> 
> Title comes from the song of the same name by Nicole Dollanganger.
> 
> (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

_  
  
It is the way it has to be._  
  
When their children were still children, Regis Lucis Caelum and Sylva Nox Fleuret went to the Crystal over and over again and begged for another way to save the world. They stood before the Crystal, they talked and argued and pleaded until they were gasping for breath, asking for anything, _anything else_ , just not the lives of their children.  
  
Again and again, they were shot down, refused, turned away. _It is the way it has to be_.  
  
“They are innocent,” Sylva said. Her voice was thick and her face was strained. This was the fourth, maybe fifth, or sixth, or the  _hundredth_ time they stood before the Crystal, it could have been the millionth for all they knew, after all, what was time when they were begging for their children’s lives? “They are _children_ ,” Sylva continued. “They are _our_ children. You cannot expect us to simply stand aside and let them die.”  
  
_It is the way it has to be_.  
  
Regis shook his head, his own eyes filling at the mere thought of his boy, _his sweet boy_ , having to give up his life. He was only five years old, wonderful and sweet-natured and happy, and he had been chosen by the Crystal, his fate had already been sealed despite that he was still so very young. To think of him growing up only to be a sacrificial lamb...it was cruel. Even for the gods, this was cruel. “There must be another way,” he said. “Why should our children have to pay so dearly for whatever mistakes the gods have made?”  
  
Perhaps they were insane to stand before the Crystal and shout and accuse and curse the gods like this. It was because of these gods that Regis and Sylva had their gifts of power, it was because of these gods that they were who they were, and yet Regis would give it all up in a heartbeat. He would let his household name go up in flames and he would jump headfirst into the life of an ordinary citizen, just as long as his son was allowed to live out his days. The same for young Lunafreya. That sweet, old soul didn’t deserve the pain and heartache that would be bestowed upon her.  
  
_It is the way it has to be_.  
  
“No!” Sylva said, her voice strong and forceful. With that voice, with the fire in her eyes, Regis felt like she could command the mountains to move and they would obey her. “There must be another way. Why should innocent people, innocent _children_ , bleed and die simply to rectify your mistakes? How many times must we tell you before you realize that responsibility should fall unto you, and you alone? You cannot toy with our lives like this."  
  
Silence.  
  
No, not quite silence. Regis tilted his head slightly, a chill running over the back of his neck. It was like the touch of ghosts running over his skin, the feeling and knowledge that something was _there_ without being able to hear it or see it. He could almost imagine whispers emanating from the Crystal. He could sense it. They were chattering amongst themselves, clearly so surprised at their fierce intent to defy destiny, surprised that they simply hadn’t taken no for an answer and hadn't given up at the first refusal they had been given.  
  
It was a strange thing to be a witness to. He knew Bahamut resided within the Crystal itself, but he hadn’t quite realized the others could communicate through it also. He supposed there had never been a reason for them to do so before.  
  
_There may be another way_.  
  
Regis stared. He had been expecting another dismissal, they had become so used to it by now, it took him a moment to process that they had received a completely different answer. He glanced at Sylva, took in her stunned expression, and he swallowed nervously. “As long as it doesn’t involve our children dying,” he said softly, “then I think we are more than happy to help.”  
  
Whispers again, almost excited this time, and Regis had to wonder if they were also pleased with the idea of another solution. Perhaps they had focused on one outcome for so long they had forgotten that another option could even be considered. Perhaps they didn’t want children to die either.  
  
Perhaps they weren’t so cruel and heartless after all.  
  
_Oracle. King. You would discard the prophecy that has been waiting centuries to come to fruition? You would discard the prophecy that has guided you and so many before you?_  
  
Sylva straightened, her head held high, eyes narrowed. “I would.”  
  
“I would,” Regis nodded.  
  
A pause.  
  
_Very well. The prophecy shall be dissolved, and your children shall be safe. Know this; should this decision bring forth dire consequences, the blame will be on your shoulders._  
  
“I can accept that,” Regis answered.  
  
“As can I,” Sylva said.  
  
_Bring us the Accursed and have him stand before the Crystal’s light. Only then might this world know peace. Only then can we see to free it of the scourge that plagues it so._  
  
“The Accursed?” Sylva blinked.  
  
Regis frowned. “Who is the Accursed?”  
  
Silence.  
  
Regis stepped forwards, ignoring as Sylva grabbed at his arm in panic, trying to pull him away and back to safety. “Tell me,” he said. “Who is the Accursed? How are we to bring him to you if we know nothing of him?”  
  
Silence.  
  
The whispers were gone, as had the _presence_ that he could feel licking across his skin whenever he spoke to the Crystal. How very helpful these gods were, demanding sacrifices one moment, and then silent the next after providing another potential solution. Just how were they supposed to accomplish anything if they didn’t have the necessary details?  
  
“That voice,” Sylva said afterwards, her voice soft and breathless, a hand clutching at his elbow as they left the Crystal’s chamber. “That was Bahamut, was it not? Or was I dreaming the entire thing?”  
  
Regis smiled faintly. “He does leave quite an impression.”  
  
“You can say that again.”  
  
They wandered for a while, their footfalls soft and echoing around them, both of them lightheaded and content to bask in the fact that they no longer had to sentence their children to death. Regis’s heart was both going to crush into itself and explode out of his chest. They had done it, they had managed to convince the Astrals of taking another path, and their children would be safe. Noctis would be safe.  
  
Noctis wouldn’t have to _die_.  
  
They stood together in an empty corridor, facing the floor to ceiling windows, looking out at the sprawling city before them and the faint shimmering of the protective wall surrounding them.  
  
“Oh,” Sylva said suddenly, and she dabbed at her eyes gently. “Would you look at that, my eyes appear to be sensitive to light.”  
  
Regis smiled at her. “You are fooling no one, Sylva,” he said, pulling his handkerchief from his pocket and handing it to her.  
  
Sylva accepted the material with a smile of her own, which soon faded as she returned her gaze to the windows before them. “I always knew what duties and fate an Oracle would have, and that my own child would have to accept them in time.” She raised the handkerchief to her eyes and dabbed again. “I just never expected for how much the idea would hurt once I conceived and gave birth to Luna. One look in her eyes, and it was as if all of my teachings and beliefs went flying out the window. That I would have to subject her to my own fate...it suddenly seemed so impossible.”  
  
Regis could only nod. “I understand you completely,” he said quietly. “I went through the same thing with Noctis. People in our positions...we know we need heirs to continue our bloodlines and our duties. But it’s all very easy to think about, when it’s simply a concept.” He ran a hand over his eyes, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly tired. “The day Noctis was born, I wanted to run away. I wanted to bundle him and Aulea into the Regalia and drive them far away from here. Sometimes I regret that I didn’t do so.”  
  
“We don’t have to worry anymore,” Sylva pressed a hand to his shoulder, a warm and sympathetic smile on her lips. “Once we find this Accursed, we can be rid of the daemons and our children can live _happily_. They won’t have to know such pains. They can be free.”  
  
Free. It was still such a lovely thought. And yet— “And just where do we find this Accursed? I haven’t the slightest idea of who he could be. Not to mention that Niflheim is still a problem. I am still very much at war with them, in case you had forgotten.”  
  
“Oh, you worry too much, Regis, as always,” Sylva chuckled. “Here we are, two leaders of two very powerful nations. Together, we have one vast and powerful army.”  
  
Regis looked at her sharply. “I thought Tenebrae was choosing to stay out of this war?” Despite that Niflheim had been trying - and failing - to conquer Tenebrae for a good few centuries now, the latter had always decided to stay away from war completely.  
  
“And now I am choosing to stand by you.” Sylva stared out at the city, her head high again, shoulders straight. “Together, we shall end Niflheim’s reign of terror, and we shall find this Accursed and make him kneel before the Crystal. Then we will all know peace, our children especially.”  
  
Regis raised his eyebrows. “You are talking about taking your country to war.”  
  
“I am talking about giving Niflheim the punch to the face it so rightly deserves,” Sylva shot back. She eyed him out of the corners of her eyes. “Come now, don’t get so high and mighty with me. Why should you have all the fun?”  
  
Regis found himself smiling as he turned back to the windows. He thought of Noctis, five years old and already talking the ears off of young Ignis, Lunafreya and Ravus. Innocent and playful and the light of his life. Young Lunafreya, wise beyond her years and so pure in heart, and with a strength in her eyes that mirrored her mother’s.  
  
And they would be _free_. If Regis and Sylva could end this war together, if they could defeat Niflheim and find this Accursed, then their children could grow and live out their days without the burdens that had so very nearly been pushed upon their tiny shoulders.  
  
“Very well,” Regis said. “Where shall we begin?”  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
They peered in on the children, later that day, drawn in by the laughter and the screaming. Ignis had Noctis on his back, one tiny arm wrapped around his neck, the other holding up a toy sword. Lunafreya, likewise, was on her brother’s back, grinning wide and holding her own sword high in the air.  
  
“This is not proper!” Ignis was saying. “You’re a princess, princesses don’t have swords!”  
  
Lunafreya let out a delighted laugh, her sword clashing with Noctis’s. “Princesses can have whatever they want, Ignis.” She moved her legs suddenly, effectively kicking her brother, yelling out a sharp, “Yah! Let’s go!”  
  
Ravus looked at her over his shoulder, amused. “I’m not a chocobo, Luna.”  
  
“Yah! Giddy-up!”  
  
“Luna! Luna!” Noctis cried. “Let’s race, I wanna race!”  
  
Lunafreya grinned. “Yes!”  
  
Ignis groaned and Ravus rolled his eyes, but they were both smiling anyway as they raced, the two on their backs still clashing swords the whole time.  
  
And this was what Regis and Sylva were fighting for. Their children would grow up, yes, and they would leave their toy swords behind one day, but as long as there would never come a time when they would need to pick up a real blade with the intention of using it in battle, then that was all that mattered.  
  
  
~&~  
  
  
The first time Regis saw Sylva, he had been a teenager and on a diplomatic visit to Tenebrae with his father. He had been told that she had been a potential bride for him, and the very idea of it had had him sweating before they had even set foot in Tenebrae, so much that Clarus had made jokes about dehydration and had carried a handkerchief around with him everywhere. Not that he had ever made _use_ of said handkerchief, he had only ever stood in the background and sent Regis smug grins as he pretended to dab his own forehead with it.  
  
Sylva had been young and beautiful, and so painfully more regal than he had ever been despite that she had only been a year younger. She took one look at him and, upon hearing from her own mother that they could have a potential marriage in the future, had burst into laughter. She had linked their arms together, made jokes about the “pitiful” moustache he had been trying to grow, and had then proceeded to take him on a personal tour around her home.  
  
They had remained good friends ever since.  
  
Following their meeting with the gods, they campaigned a good war against Niflheim. Lucis had been doing well to fight them back, but with the added help of Tenebrae, their countries were able to weaken Niflheim considerably, they were able to even the playing field, if not more than that. There was every chance that they could _win_ the war, given enough time.  
  
And then all hell broke loose.  
  
The last time Regis saw Sylva, Tenebrae was under attack and she was leaping in front of her son to protect him from the flames that tried to swallow him up. Her eyes, so blue and alive in the light of the fire, were fierce and determined and unafraid even as she was struck down by General Glauca.  
  
Regis could only grit his teeth and swallow back the enraged screams he wanted to let loose, all too aware of the trembling boy he held in his arms and the small girl clinging to his hand as they ran. Explosions and yelling and screams, and even then Regis could only focus on the tiny, horrified gasps in his ear, the small hands that clung to his jacket.  
  
Their children were supposed to be _free_ , damn it. They weren’t supposed to suffer or witness any of the bloodshed this world and this war had to offer. And yet here they were, Niflheim unleashing its fury on them, on _innocent_ people, revealing them as the heartless bastards they really were. It had been a perfect opportunity for them, hadn’t it? Kill the sovereigns of both enemy territories, _and_ their heirs, all in one go.  
  
Not only that, but they must have known, they _had_ to have known that the only reason he and Noctis were here in the first place was to help the prince recover from his injuries—and, well, Regis had his own horrible and unconfirmed suspicions about the daemon attack on his boy, and those suspicions were looking all the more likely now.  
  
“Please, help us!” a voice screamed. “King Regis!”  
  
_Ravus. Oh_ gods _, Ravus_. He wanted nothing more than to run back and grab him, to drag the prince along with his sister. He had to protect them all, he had to keep them safe. Regis clung to his son, ready to turn his head around and to yell for Ravus to follow. He couldn’t stop running now, there were soldiers at their backs, not to mention General Glauca was still somewhere in the area.  
  
And then Lunafreya let go of his hand, jerked it out of his grasp.  
  
“Luna!” Noctis came alive suddenly, struggling in his grasp, reaching a hand out. “Luna, no! Come back!”  
  
No, no, _no_. He couldn’t let those children die. He had to _do_ something, he had to find a safe place to hide Noctis and then turn around for them. Sylva had risked _everything_ for him, the least he could do was try and keep her children safe and out of their enemy’s clutches.  
  
A loud bang, and Regis was falling before he registered the sharp pain in his leg. Noctis let out a frightened cry as they hit the ground, the boy tumbling away from him, and Regis’s heart clenched at the idea that his son might be further hurt from the fall, that the healing he had accomplished so far would be reversed. And all because he couldn’t keep his boy safe.  
  
Regis pushed himself up, crawling over to Noctis, but another bang and a new pain in his shoulder had him collapsing onto his stomach with a choked cry.  
  
“Dad!” Noctis yelled.  
  
Footsteps were coming closer. Slow and confident, not the rush of boots from before. They stopped beside Regis, waiting even as he grit his teeth against the pain and tried to get back up, tried to summon his weapons.  
  
A boot pressed down on his shoulder, and Regis couldn’t help the scream that escaped him, his nails digging in the grass as that foot ground into his wound.  
  
“Take him,” a voice said.  
  
“No, no, _don’t_!” Noctis cried out. “No, let go, _let go_! Dad!”  
  
“Noct—” Regis choked on another pained cry, but he fought against it, getting his hands and knees under him, his heart racing as his boy’s cries became fainter. “Noctis, no!” Hands grabbed onto his head and he was shoved face first into the ground. “Leave him be,” he managed to get out, struggling against the stranger above him. He was stronger than this, _damn it_ , he had to be stronger than this. “He’s just a boy!”  
  
“Ah, but I must disagree. He is not _just_ a boy,” the voice said, and the stranger came closer, digging fingers into the wound on Regis’s shoulder. “He is _your_ boy. And now? Not anymore.”  
  
Regis snarled and threw his head back as hard as he could, connecting with something solid behind him, satisfaction running through him at the pained grunt he heard. Shoving the pain back, he fought through the dizziness and the blood loss and reached into the armoury for his weapon, for _all_ of his weapons, ready to give them hell for what they had done—  
  
And then something slammed into his head and his vision went black, and the only thing he could focus on was Noctis’s distant cries before he fell into unconsciousness.  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
When it was all over, when the smoke had cleared and the bullets were removed from Regis’s body, he and the survivors searched Fenestala Manor high and low. They looked in every room and in every garden, behind every tree, in every bush.  
  
But it was useless. They were long gone.  
  
Ravus, Lunafreya, _Noctis_.  
  
They were _gone_.  
  
And Regis fell to his knees beside Sylva, tears running down his cheeks, his hands dirty and bloody, trembling as he took in the sight of her. She had always seemed so strong, as untouchable as the gods she communed with. Now, lying still in the ruins of her home, she seemed so fragile, so _human_ , and it stole his breath away, made his heart ache in his chest.  
  
And he knew, he knew already, that she would slap him and tell him to get up, to stop mourning for her when their children needed him, when there was still so much to be done.  
  
Regis blinked back his tears and pushed a lock of her hair away from her face. “Niflheim will burn for this,” he said to her. “I swear it. I’ll make them pay.”  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to point out any mistakes/grammar issues/inconsistencies/etc.
> 
> You can find me at tumblr: ivorydice.tumblr.com


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thank you so much for all the comments/kudos/etc! Seeing such a positive response to the first chapter really made me happy! I love youuuuu <3
> 
> We're seeing the immediate aftermath of the invasion for now, but I still intend for there to be a time-skip to the present day in a few chapters time, and then the rest will be told through flashbacks. Don't worry, I'm _pretty_ sure I know what I'm doing lol!
> 
> I'm pretty sure this chapter is done, but, like _always_ , I'll probably come back to edit through it if I see any mistakes or if I want to add/change things later. Feel free to point out any mistakes/inconsistencies/etc!
> 
> Is that everything? I think that's everything.

  
  
Luna clung to her brother, flinching at the nearby sounds of explosions and gunfire. She ripped at her cloak, tearing a strip off and tying it around Ravus’s arm, hoping to stem the flow of blood until they could find a way to treat him. She ignored the way her hands were trembling and she glared up at the soldiers whenever they stepped too close in the confines of the airship they had been bundled into.  
  
“It’s only a graze,” Ravus mumbled.  
  
Luna blinked at him. “What?”  
  
“The bullet. It only grazed me, it’s nothing to worry about.”  
  
But he was shivering and his face was clammy and pale in the dim lighting of the airship. Luna clenched her fists in the edges of his coat, shaking her head. “You’re still hurt,” she replied. “Of course I’m going to worry.” She looked up at the soldiers again, fighting back the shudders whenever she saw the lifeless, mechanical faces. They stood so still, unmoving like statues, and yet they were so quick to come to life whenever she or Ravus tried to escape.  
  
She had no doubts that they wouldn’t be able to get past these soldiers. They simply weren’t strong enough.  
  
The airship shifted suddenly and the main door was opening, the ramp lowering down as more soldiers came aboard, and she watched as they dropped a small, black bundle onto the floor with very little care. A bundle that let out a cry of pain as it hit the floor.  
  
Luna felt her stomach drop in horror. “Noctis!”  
  
Noctis was pressing one hand to his back and trying to push himself up with the other. He looked up at the soldiers towering over him and then tried to rush forwards, tried to make his way towards the still lowered ramp, but a swift kick to his stomach had him rolling away with another pained yell.  
  
“No, don’t!” Luna cried. “Leave him be!” She left her brother’s side and dropped to her knees beside the small boy, wrapping her arms around him, hoping to shield him from any further blows. Noctis hid his face in her throat, shaking within her embrace, and her heart ached at the small noises coming from him.  
  
If Noctis was here, then what had happened to King Regis? How had the two of them been separated? There wasn’t a single reason in the whole world as to why he would have willingly parted with his son, not with the danger they were all in. Not now, not ever.  
  
“Dad,” Noctis mumbled into her throat, as if reading her mind. “My dad, Luna.”  
  
“Where is he?” she whispered. When he didn’t answer, she cupped his face and turned it upwards, made him look at her. “Noctis, where is your father? Where is King Regis?”  
  
“He’s hurt,” Noctis said, and his voice was choked and his eyes were watering. “I think he’s hurt real bad. He was screaming and I don’t think he could get up. He wouldn’t get up.”  
  
Oh, oh no. Luna quickly pulled him to her again so he couldn’t see any fears that might be showing in her eyes. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and ran her fingers through his hair as he tried to fight back his sobs.  
  
First her mother, and now King Regis? She could only hope it wasn’t true, she could only pray that the King was simply hurt and would heal. He couldn’t be dead, please, don’t let him be dead.  
  
_Please_.  
  
More footsteps, boots clunking on the metal floor, and then the ramp was lifting up, the airship sealing shut and cutting off any hopes of escape they could have had. “Let us depart then, yes?” someone called out, and Luna felt a flash of surprise at the sound of another human voice when they were surrounded by so many machines. “Time to leave this place behind, I think.”  
  
Luna gasped and clung to Noctis as the airship seemed to jerk into motion. They swayed and lost their balance for a moment, before everything settled just as quickly, and she wondered if they were still moving. It was so hard to tell. The floor was rumbling faintly underneath them, but the soldiers stood still and steady. It reminded her of riding on the trains through Tenebrae with her mother.  
  
_Oh, Mother._  
  
The newcomer seemed just as steady on his feet, although he was definitely human. “Ah, such an honour to be in the presence of so many members of royalty, so please, allow me to introduce myself,” he smiled down at them and bowed, almost mockingly. “I am Ardyn Izunia, and I am _humbly_ at your service.”  
  
Ravus scoffed.  
  
Ardyn looked over at him, seemingly amused, and then regarded them all thoughtfully in the silence that followed. “Why the long faces, dear children?”  
  
“As if you don’t know,” Ravus sneered. He was gripping at his arm still, shifting as he leaned against the wall of the airship. “If you are so humbly at our service as you say, then you can see about letting us go.”  
  
“Now that is something I cannot do,” Ardyn said, still smiling.  
  
“At least let Noctis go,” Luna said. She looked up at the man, wrapping her arms tighter around the prince when Ardyn’s gaze dropped to him. What a very strange look he had in his eyes in that moment. She didn’t like it, not at all. “Please. He’s just a boy, and he’s hurt.”  
  
Ardyn crouched down, looking them over, taking in Noctis’s motionless legs lying at an awkward angle. “My, my,” he tutted. “Whatever happened to your legs, little prince?”  
  
Noctis said nothing. His arms wrapped around Luna’s waist and he clung to her, burying his face further into her throat. He was still shaking, and she thought she could feel a wetness on her skin. She had to wonder if he was scared for his own life or if he was still thinking of his father.  
  
“Please,” Luna repeated. “I'll do whatever you ask of me, just please, _please_ let him go.”  
  
Ardyn shook his head, and his eyes were almost regretful. “Again, I’m afraid that is something I cannot do. And you are in no position to be negotiating, princess.”  
  
Luna bit her lip and fought back her tears, lowering her face to Noctis’s hair. This boy, this poor boy, her dear friend. Hadn’t he suffered enough already in such a short amount of time? Didn’t he deserve to have some peace? Couldn’t the gods spare him, just this once?  
  
A hand was suddenly beneath her chin, fingers gripping at her jaw and forcing her to raise her head. “Look at me, little Oracle,” Ardyn said.  
  
In the corners of her eyes, she could see Ravus trying to get up, her brother snarling out a curse, and the mechanical soldiers came to life, pointing their guns at him. He froze, eyes on Ardyn, and Luna’s heart was about to burst out of her chest. If anything happened to Ravus…  
  
“Please,” she whispered, looking at Ravus, then the soldiers, then Ardyn. She didn’t know what she was pleading for. Safety, salvation, a solution. For all of this to be a dream. _Anything._  
  
_Please._  
  
Ardyn smiled at her and his strange gaze sent shivers down her spine. It was almost as if he could peer into her soul. “I only want what’s best for all of us.”  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
She didn’t know how long they were flying for. As Ardyn wandered off somewhere, she pulled Noctis with her and held him close while she sat next to her brother, although she felt a flash of hurt when Ravus refused to even acknowledge their presence. He was stiff beside her, still clutching at his arm, glaring at the opposite wall as if he could make it crumble under the force of his anger.  
  
But there was little anger could do for them right now.  
  
The only time he did move was when Noctis sniffed rather loudly. Ravus glanced down at him with hard eyes, glaring at him, and he hissed out, “Quit your snivelling.”  
  
Luna stared at him, mouth open. “He’s _upset_ ,” she whispered back.  
  
“We are all upset, Luna, yet he’s the only one crying about it.”  
  
She turned away from him and tightened her grip on the prince, clinging to him. It was just the stress of the day, the anger, the fear, that was all. Ravus was only feeling stressed and he would calm down later once the shock of everything had died down.  
  
The rest of the journey was made in silence, save for her quiet humming into Noctis’s hair. She focused on that and that alone, allowing the melody to take over all of her thoughts, otherwise she would only think of the attack and of her mother and her worry for King Regis. She couldn’t do anything about that now, she couldn’t undo the past, and she certainly couldn’t make her way back home to seek the King out and help him in any way she could.  
  
But she could take care of his son for him, she could make sure he was as soothed as possible in such a terrible situation. If she focused on staying calm for Noctis and focused on taking care of him, then surely it would help make everything else seem a little more bearable.  
  
_But the fire, the screams, her mother…_  
  
Luna squeezed her eyes shut.  
  
The airship jerked, as if slowing down, and then there was the strangest motion of what she could only guess was the airship lowering to the ground. It was so strange to be in a moving vehicle without being able to see anything outside. It was confusing and disorientating, and she hated that she didn’t know what was going on.  
  
And then everyone was suddenly in motion. The ramp was lowering and the soldiers were moving, and Luna protested as something was thrown over her head, enveloping her in darkness. Beside her, Ravus swore and Noctis whimpered as he was pulled from her arms. Heart pounding in her chest, a lump in her throat, she could only listen as soldiers bustled around her, she could only wait as something was attached to her wrist, binding it to the other, and then someone - something? - was pulling her to her feet.  
  
“Noctis!” she said before she could stop to think. “Ravus!” She tried to turn in what she thought was their direction, but something tugged on her bound wrists and had her stumbling forwards instead.  
  
“Carry the boy,” Ardyn’s voice carried to her ears suddenly. “And do be careful with him, it appears his back is still in need of some healing.”  
  
_How do you know that?_ Luna turned her head in the man’s direction, frowning beneath the hood over her face.  
  
They were surrounded by soldiers, by the sounds of it. She wondered if Ravus and Noctis were bound too, if they were being led through the darkness like she was, and if they were then they really didn’t have any chances to escape now. As long as they weren’t separated, however. That was all she could hope for, especially for Noctis. Ravus was strong and smart and he was older, he could definitely take care of himself if he was to be taken somewhere else.  
  
Noctis, however, was small and young and hurt. He needed her.  
  
“Luna?” Noctis’s voice called out from behind her, small and worried.  
  
Luna’s heart clenched in her chest at that sound. “I’m here!” she called back, turning a little, but a hand pressed against her shoulder and shoved her forwards again. “I’m right here, Noctis! Don’t worry!”  
  
With hands gripping her arms, she was led through doorways and corridors, turning left and right, until she ended up confused and dizzy from it all. And then finally, _finally_ , they came to a stop as a door opened in front of them and they were led through. Her hands were unbound and the hood came off her head.  
  
She blinked and squinted in the sudden light, and she quickly looked around for Noctis and Ravus. They were with her, thank the gods, being unbound themselves and with their own hoods being pulled away. Then the soldiers were turning and piling out of the door and Ardyn was in front of them, smiling at them as he gestured to the room. “Your living quarters,” he said. “Please, feel free to make yourselves at home.”  
  
Ravus rushed forwards suddenly, teeth grit together, his hand clenched into a fist, and he swung it at Ardyn with a cry. Luna could only bring her hands to her mouth and watch in horror as the older man caught her brother’s arm in a tight grip, that smile still on his lips, and he shoved Ravus towards one of the beds.  
  
“I’ll let that one slide,” Ardyn said. “If you try it again, however, you won’t like what you’ll receive in return.”  
  
Luna waited until he had left the room and had closed the heavy door behind him, listening to the sounds of heavy locks sliding into place and something beeping on the other side of the door, then she turned to Noctis and rushed over to him. He had been deposited on one of the beds, and he simply sat there, hands loose in his lap, eyes on the floor.  
  
“Are you all right?” Luna brushed her fingers along his hair, leaning down to try and meet his eyes.  
  
Noctis nodded. “Yeah.”  
  
“Why are you asking _him_?” Ravus snapped.  
  
“In case you had forgotten,” Luna glanced at her brother, wondering at his harsh tone, “he is still recovering from his injuries.”  
  
Ravus sat up on the bed, his face twisted and angry. “Are you stupid, girl?” he hissed. “This is all happening _because_ of him. This is all his fault, and he is not worth a minute of your time.”  
  
Noctis looked up then, eyes wide and mouth open in horror and devastation, and that look cut her deep. Luna whirled on her brother, clenching her hands to resist the urge to shove him. “Don’t say that!” she cried. “You don’t mean that.”  
  
“I do,” Ravus answered. “Open your eyes, Luna. Niflheim wouldn’t have been at our door had he and the great King Regis never been there in the first place.”  
  
Luna shook her head. “You don’t know that. Mother was at war with them too.”  
  
“And look at what that got her,” Ravus said. “Look at what _they_ have done to her. Regis practically sentenced her to death the moment he dragged her into this war of his.” There was a suspicious noise behind Luna, something like a sniffle, and Ravus’s eyes hardened even further as he peered round her to look at Noctis. “What are you _crying_ for? Does the truth hurt? My mother is _dead_ because of you and you are simply going to sit there and cry as if _you_ are the victim here?”  
  
“Stop it!” Luna yelled and she _did_ push him this time, she slammed her hands into his shoulders and _shoved_ him, ignoring the guilt that flared up when he cried out and clutched at his still injured arm. But she refused to feel sorry for him. She wouldn’t, not if he was going to act like _that_. Luna blinked back her tears and shook her head, stepping backwards and away from her brother. “It is _not_ his fault, don’t you _dare_ blame him for any of this.”  
  
“What if it is?”  
  
Luna turned back to Noctis at the sound of his weak, trembling voice, and she shook her head again. “No, it isn’t. None of this is your fault.”  
  
Noctis sniffed. “But what if it is?”  
  
“It’s _not_ ,” she went to him then, sitting down beside him on the bed and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “And nor is it your father’s fault. The only ones we should be blaming for this is Niflheim, do you understand? _They_ are the ones that did this, not your father, and certainly not you. All right?”  
  
Noctis didn’t look like he believed her, but he nodded anyway, his eyes lowering to the ground once more.  
  
Luna turned to Ravus. “All right?” she repeated, hardening her gaze at him.  
  
Ravus stared back at her, then scoffed, looking away, his lips still pursed and his eyes bitter.  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
It didn’t matter how many times he was told to sleep and practically manhandled to a safe place where he could rest, Regis couldn’t let himself relax. For hours now he had been running on pure adrenaline, a sick feeling of anxiety rushing through his veins and churning in his stomach, constantly worrying for the children, for _Noctis_. What would become of them? What would the Empire do with them? What could they possibly _want_ them for in the first place?  
  
Abducting the children during an invasion...it was either them simply seizing the opportunity as it had been presented to them, or it had been the very reason behind the attack in the first place. The latter did nothing but make Regis feel sick to his stomach.  
  
Heirs to their respective kingdoms or not, abducting _children_ , bringing them into the war, was heartless and cruel and very, very concerning.  
  
And still people tried to accost him, Tenebraen and Lucian servants alike, telling him he should be resting, his body still needed to heal, but how could he heal while his boy was in danger? How could he stop to rest when those children were in the hands of their enemy?  
  
Regis ignored them all as he marched towards the trains, pulling his cloak on and fastening it into place. The trains still ran throughout the whole of Tenebrae and some of the local small but neutral territories, but the old lines that connected it to Niflheim had been blocked off years ago. He just had to make it to the edge, to the outposts he knew were stationed there, and then he could find a way of getting into the imperial lands.  
  
“And just where do you think you are going, Your Majesty?”  
  
Clarus. Of course. For a very brief moment, Regis regretted ever bringing his shield along on this trip, already knowing how averse he would be to his current plans, but he was all too aware that Clarus’s efforts were one of the main reasons they had as many survivors as they did. Still, Regis didn’t spare him a glance and continued on his path. “I imagine there are very few possible answers to that question, Clarus.”  
  
“You are planning on going into Niflheim.”  
  
“Congratulations, you got it right on the first try.”  
  
“You are going alone? Are you _mad_?” his shield appeared beside him, face hard and angry. “I understand your feelings, Your Majesty, but you cannot—”  
  
“Do you?” Regis snapped, stopping now and he whirled on his old friend, glaring him down. “Do you truly understand how I am _feeling_ at this moment? Those children are in the imperial lands by now, Clarus, gods damned _Niflheim_ has them, and who _knows_ what will happen to them while they are in captivity.”  
  
Regis glanced around them, taking in the shell-shocked faces of the survivors, people gathering together to help each other with their meals, with resting and tending to the injured. And, meanwhile, Noctis and the others were still out there, all alone.  
  
“I cannot leave them there,” Regis said eventually, turning back to his shield. “I _won’t_.”  
  
“Your Majesty,” Clarus called as he started walking again, but Regis ignored him. He marched for the trains, his footsteps heavy and echoing on the stone as he descended the steps, and he could hear the sound of Clarus’s boots as the other man followed. A hand gripped his shoulder. “Your Majesty, this is madness!”  
  
Regis shrugged him off. “Let go.”  
  
Clarus did anything but. He grabbed Regis with his other hand, the shield’s fingers clenching in his jacket, and Regis fought back against him, shoving at the other man and struggling until his back was suddenly slamming up against the side of the train with a rattling bang. “Let go of me!” Regis snarled at him. He pulled at the other man’s wrists, but Clarus had always been the strongest out of any of them, he had always managed to overpower him throughout their years of training and fighting side by side.  
  
Regis still struggled, however, his mind stuck on Noctis’s calls for help and his terrified gasps, and when he spoke his voice was a struggle to get out, rough and painful, as if gravel was stuck in his throat. “Is this how you treat your King?”  
  
Clarus held him against the train, unmoving, as solid and heavy as a statue. “No,” he said quietly. “This is how I treat my friend, who is clearly not thinking rationally about the situation.”  
  
“Clarus,” Regis’s voice failed him then, it choked him and broke away, and his grip weakened on the other man’s arms. “They have my _boy_ , Clarus. Please.” He raised his eyes, met the warm gaze of his friend, and those eyes weren’t without sympathy or compassion. “What would you do if they had taken Gladiolus? Or Iris?”  
  
The hands clenched in his jacket tightened a little further. Clarus pressed his lips together and swallowed, took a breath. “I would expect my friend to think for me, when anger and grief would cloud my judgements, just as they are doing to you.”  
  
“You expect me to fall back?” Regis said. “You expect me to just leave them there?”  
  
“They are prisoners of war now, Regis,” his shield answered, and Regis flinched at that, because they shouldn’t _be_ such things, it should never have happened in the first place. “And we must do what we would do if it were anyone else.”  
  
“Clarus—”  
  
“We must continue to fight,” Clarus cut in, as determined as ever, “We must weaken their army, lead an offense against them. What we cannot do is march in there blindly. That will only result in your death, and we _cannot_ risk that. Your kingdom needs you alive. Your _boy_ needs you alive.”  
  
Regis scoffed and shook his head, looking away. “So I should just leave him to the wolves and hope they don’t eat him alive?”  
  
“He is strong,” Clarus replied. “He is of the Lucian line, and he is the son of King Regis, the same King who has been fighting back those imperial rats—”  
  
“The same King who led a queen to her death and couldn’t protect his own son—”  
  
Clarus shook him a little, pulled his body away from the train only to shove him back against it. “Stop,” his shield said. “Self-doubt will do little to help us now. We must focus on the task at hand.”  
  
“Your Majesty!”  
  
Regis looked up as a Tenebraen soldier rushed for them, his eyes wide and his face pale. “What is it?” Regis said, pulling away from Clarus as his shield's grasp slackened in surprise.  
  
“News from our scouts in Niflheim and from the outposts on the border,” the soldier said, gasping, breathless from his run. “I think you’d better come and listen to this, Your Majesty.”  
  
Regis only had to share a glance with Clarus before they were rushing along with the soldier, racing back along the pathways and up the steps. Fenestala Manor itself had received some damage in the initial attack, although the fires were long extinguished now and there would need to be some time and effort spent to restore the building back to its former glory. The military wing, however, was completely untouched, and Regis had to wonder at that slight miracle.  
  
They were taken to one of the communication rooms, where a soldier was frantically speaking into a microphone, pressing buttons and turning dials on the multiple machines and the radio on the desk in front of him, surrounded by other officers who were watching with rapt attention.  
  
“Bravo team, come in,” the man was saying. “Sierra Bravo team, do you read me? Over.”  
  
“What is the meaning of this?” Clarus said.  
  
“Sir,” the soldiers stood straighter and saluted, then bowed once they noticed Regis.  
  
The man sitting at the microphone looked up at them with wide, almost frantic eyes. “There’s some sort of activity not far past the border,” he said. “Our communication link with the scout teams are weak at this distance, but we’re trying to get them back.”  
  
“Activity?” Clarus frowned. “What sort of activity?”  
  
“I’m not sure, sir, we—”  
  
The radio on the table crackled to life, a distorted voice coming through the speakers. “ _Fenestala, do you copy? This is Sierra Bravo reporting. There is an army marching for the border, I repeat, an army is marching for our borders. Over._ ”  
  
Regis looked up and met his shield’s surprised gaze. “Marching on the border while the Tenebraen army is working on recovery efforts and is without a ruler. They are nothing if not opportunists, I'll give them that.”  
  
Clarus was staring off at the side, deep in thought. “How soon do you think we could gather a force and send it to fight them off?”  
  
“Not soon enough,” Regis answered. “And I have no power to do so, anyway. Tenebrae and Lucis might be allies, but I hold no authority here. That decision, in light of things, would fall to Ravus.”  
  
“Sir—Your Majesty,” the soldier at the desk turned in his chair and bowed his head. “We are ready to follow you into battle, if you need us to. There are already talks of following your commands, of merging with your army. Our Queen would have wanted us to continue—”  
  
Regis held his hand up, cutting the man off. “We will discuss such matters soon enough. What concerns me right now is this supposed army heading our way. Can you find out what we are facing, exactly?”  
  
The man nodded and turned back to the microphone, asking the scout team for an estimation of how many soldiers there were, and Regis looked at Clarus again. “Any ideas would be greatly appreciated.”  
  
But Clarus was shaking his head slowly, mouth pressed together in a grim line, and Regis fought back a sudden wave of hysterical laughter. As if this day couldn’t get any worse, as if things couldn’t be more of a mess—  
  
“ _Fenestala, estimation is in the high hundreds, if not thousands. There are more still assembling. It looks like the entire imperial army is marching for our doors!_ ”  
  
“Is there anyone _left_ in Niflheim, if their army is so large?” one of the other officers muttered.  
  
“It will be more of those magitek troopers, I imagine,” Regis said. “Niflheim has been reducing its human soldiers for years now, choosing to replace flesh with metal. And I dare say it’s working for them, we have all seen their prowess on the battlefield.”  
  
Clarus shook his head again, letting out a disgusted noise. “An army of machines,” he said, his voice low and derisive. “That is wonderful news.”  
  
“ _Fenestala, something’s wrong, the temperature is dropping to freezing levels_ _—_ _I_ _—_ _see_ _—_ _don’t know_ _—_ ”  
  
“Get that signal back,” one of the officers snapped.  
  
“I’m trying!” the soldier at the microphone said, turning dials on his radio again and pressing buttons on the machines in front of him, his fingers a frantic blur.  
  
“What did he say?” Clarus frowned. “The _temperature_ is dropping to freezing levels?”  
  
One of the officers shook his head. "Impossible. The deserts certainly get cold at night, but that area never reaches anything close to freezing levels, so that's  _impossible_."  
  
“Unless Niflheim has managed to develop weapons that can control climate conditions," Clarus muttered.  
  
They were certainly an advanced civilization, but were they _that_ advanced? Apart from the growing numbers of mechanical soldiers, Regis hadn’t really noticed any further progress in their technology. It was as if they had reached their limit. They had what they had and were either content with using only that, or they were unable to progress any further.  
  
Regis could only shake his head, unsure how to answer, and then he looked back at the radio as the signal came through once again.  
  
“— _repeat, the temperature is at freezing levels and_ _—_ ” there was a strange noise, an explosion of some sort, and everyone in the room froze, “— _oh gods, what is that! Mikel, what the_ fuck _is that?_ ”  
  
Regis marched forwards at the following noises that sounded suspiciously like gunfire and explosions, and he pulled the microphone towards him as he pressed the button to open their end of the channel. “Bravo team, this is Regis Lucis Caelum, report immediately, over.”  
  
“ _Your Majesty! My god_ _—_ _it’s a_ _—_ _there’s a hand! A hand exploded out of the ground and just struck the army, it_ _—_ _what the fuck_ _—_ ”  
  
A _hand_? Just what on Eos was going _on_ over there? “Can we get any reports from the outposts?” he turned to the officers.  
  
“I think they’re still working on a visual link,” one of the men replied, gesturing to the screens on a table beside him, each one of them blank for now. “The scouts have small cameras with them, but the signal is poor. The outposts are working on that while we communicate with the team.”  
  
“Tell them to hurry,” Clarus snapped, and another officer nodded, sitting down at a different desk to communicate with the outposts through the radios.  
  
Regis pressed the button again, heart hammering in his chest at the continued sounds of imperial soldiers firing at _something_. “Bravo team, report.”  
  
“— _Majesty_ _—_ _getting a good visual now_ _—_ _oh gods_ _—_ _the Glacian, Your Majesty, it’s the Glacian herself! She’s attacking the army!_ ”  
  
The Glacian? _Shiva_? Was this man truly saying that one of the Astrals had _awakened_ and was now wreaking havoc just past the borders of Tenebrae? Regis stepped back, more surprised than anything else.  
  
“We’ve got visual!” someone cried.  
  
They all turned to the screen, at the fuzzy, shaky footage coming from one of the scout team members. It looked as if the desert was freezing over at a rapid rate, sand turning into ice, snow blowing around in a violent wind, and amongst all of that were the lights of explosions, flashes of red and orange amongst the white fuzziness.  
  
“That’s something you don’t see everyday,” someone said.  
  
Indeed. It was hard to make out through the snow, but Regis could see a giant hole in the ground, and he could make out the shape of the Glacian in a full on assault against the imperial soldiers, her arms sweeping them up off of the ground and sending them flying into the distance. Judging from the debris littering the snow around them, what had once possibly been the entire imperial army had just been decimated in a short amount of time.  
  
But there were still some left, and they were launching an attack of their own on the Astral, and while she might have been powerful, she might have been terrifying, that meant nothing to the machines. She took blow after blow, fire and bullets raining down on her, but still she fought against them, like a wild animal, ferocious and unforgiving.  
  
He wasn’t sure how long they were all rooted to the spot, watching the shaky images with bated breaths, but soon enough the battle died down, and judging from the video footage, the only ones left standing were the members of the Sierra Bravo team hiding away at a distance from the battlefield.  
  
The imperial army lay in ruins, scattered across the frozen dunes, and the Glacian’s body lay unmoving amongst the snow.  
  
“Is she dead?” someone cried out. “Did they kill a _god_?”  
  
“Only one form of her,” Regis managed to say, finding it hard to breathe and speak and _think_. “If the Empire was capable of killing gods, then all would be lost.”  
  
“But the Glacian—”  
  
“Is owed our eternal gratitude,” Clarus said. “Don’t you see? Their entire army is crippled, they cannot possibly invade the borders now, not for a while. This gives us more than enough time to regroup and plan out our next move.”  
  
“ _Fenestala, this is the Sierra Bravo team. Fenestala, there’s_ _—_ _there’s nothing left. The Glacian_ _—_ _Shiva_ _—_ _she destroyed everything._ ”  
  
“Yes, we can see your camera feed,” the soldier operating the radio said. “However, stay in the area and report on any further activities.”  
  
“ _All right, but I doubt the Nifs have anything left in them for now, not after this. Bravo team out._ ”  
  
  
~&~  
  
  
The room they were in wasn’t really anything to write home about. It was big enough to contain two beds, a table with a few chairs and a chest of drawers, but even then it still felt a little cramped. There was a door at the end of the bed Noctis was curled up on, leading into an even smaller bathroom where there was barely enough space to turn around in.  
  
The only other door in the room was the one they had come through, and Luna had no doubts that it was well and truly locked. The walls were a bland beige colour, dirty in a few places, and there wasn’t a single window. The only source of light they had were the fluorescent ones built into the ceiling.  
  
It seemed like a prison. They were in a _prison_.  
  
At least they had something to sleep on for the night, or day, or whatever time it may be past these bland walls of theirs. Ravus was sat up on one bed, his back against the wall, staring at the ceiling as if he could burn a hole into it and escape that way. Luna chose to ignore him, still a little angry at the way he had treated Noctis, and she crawled onto the other bed with the little prince, determined to keep him company for the night.  
  
He was curled up on his side, facing the wall, and, from the sounds of it, he was still fighting back tears. He tensed when she came near, when she wrapped an arm around his middle, and he whispered a soft, “Don’t.”  
  
“What?” Luna blinked. She pushed herself up on her elbow and peered over his shoulder, trying to see his face. “Why?”  
  
“Don’t deserve it.”  
  
“Hush, now,” she said, and she lifted her hand to brush his hair out of his eyes. “Of course you do.”  
  
“I ruined everything.”  
  
“You did not.”  
  
“I _did_ _—_ ” his voice broke then and he rolled over onto his back to look up at her, eyes pained and face scrunched up. “If I hadn’t been there—if me and Dad hadn’t been there—then this wouldn’t have happened.”  
  
Luna shook her head. “You don’t know that. Niflheim is an enemy of Tenebrae, too. They could have attacked us at any time. They might have been planning this for a while, now.”  
  
Noctis’s eyes filled. “But—your mom,” he whispered, and his hand reached out for hers. “Luna, your _mom_.”  
  
“I know,” Luna’s own eyes filled then, and she swallowed, hating the sudden ache in her chest as she pulled the boy close to her. “I know.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Noctis mumbled into her throat. “I’m _sorry_. Luna, I’m so sorry, it’s my fault, all my fault, I’m sorry—”  
  
Luna wrapped her arms around him and she pressed a kiss to his head. “It’s all right,” she whispered back. “It’s all right.”  
  
It wasn’t. Of course it wasn’t. Her mother was dead, Tenebrae had been attacked, King Regis could very well be dead too, and here they were, locked up and in Niflheim’s clutches. Nothing about this was ‘all right’. But she could pretend that it was, for now, for this moment, just as long as it would help them sleep better and perhaps help them to face the morning with a new strength.  
  
She had to be strong. For Noctis.  
  
If he felt the tears that dripped into his hair, then he didn’t say anything, but none of it mattered anyway as he soon fell asleep in her arms, exhausted by the day’s events. She listened to his breathing, letting it lull her into her own rest, and she only fell the rest of the way when she felt Ravus place his long jacket over the two of them, enveloping them in the warmth and safety of it.  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
Regis sat on the main steps leading up to Fenestala Manor and he stared up at the stars above. At this angle and with the smoke long cleared, he could almost pretend that there wasn’t the slightest bit of devastation around him. He could almost pretend that people, _good people_ , hadn’t lost their lives today, and that others weren't mourning their passing. He could almost pretend that people weren’t banding together to see to each other’s needs, recovering from one of the most brutal attacks he had seen in years.  
  
He could almost pretend that Noctis wasn’t gone, that he was simply playing with Lunafreya and Ravus somewhere within the manor, that he would be comfortable and safe.  
  
Almost.  
  
Except, Noctis’s absence felt like a missing limb. It felt like a part of his very soul had been torn out of his body, violently ripped away and scattered to the wind, or held prisoner in Niflheim, left all alone to face who knows what kind of treatment.  
  
It _hurt_.  
  
Regis stiffened, a shiver running up his spine at the peculiar feeling of being watched, and he turned around, freezing. Gentiana stood at the top of the steps, staring down at him, and she watched as he rose to his feet and nod his head in respect.  
  
“The gods have my thanks,” he said after a moment, once he had managed to swallow down his nerves and find his voice. “Many would be dead tonight if the Glacian hadn’t done what she did.”  
  
Gentiana inclined her head and regarded him thoughtfully. “It is an insult to steal away the Oracle and the Chosen,” she said eventually, her voice as smooth and melodic and peaceful as ever, and yet there was something hard in her eyes. “Such unacceptable and arrogant behaviour cannot go unpunished.”  
  
Regis frowned. “Is that what that was? Punishment?”  
  
“Perhaps,” she smiled a little then. “The gods prefer to stay away from human affairs, but they are not completely without hearts or sympathy. Such assistance, however, cannot be seen again.”  
  
“I understand,” Regis nodded, and he did, but he couldn’t help the bitterness that flared up in his chest. Then again, this was a war between men. It had never been about the gods and so they had no reason to step in and fight. And yet the Glacian had fought all the same, she had helped them in their most needful hour, she had chosen a side and had shown them favour when she could have remained neutral.  
  
“Again,” he said, looking up at the messenger. “Shiva has my gratitude.”  
  
Gentiana stared at him, her eyes so serious and thoughtful, almost sad. “I wish you luck in the war ahead, King of the Stone,” she said, her voice hushed.  
  
Regis nodded, lowering his eyes, and when he looked back up, she was gone. In her place, however, sat two dogs, solemn and sad, and Regis's heart ached upon seeing them. Umbra and Pryna, Lunafreya’s very own pets, wishing for their owner to return and yet clearly knowing something was wrong.  
  
“Luck, indeed,” Regis muttered to himself, climbing up the rest of the steps and turning so he could sit at the top with the dogs, smiling a little when they came to sit on either side of him. Together, they looked out at the servants and soldiers still wandering around, still carrying out tasks that weren’t even a part of their duties.  
  
At his sides, the dogs whined and nudged at him until he caved and gave them each a scratch behind the ear. “We’re going to need every bit of luck we can get,” he said to them.  
  
He hoped that the children, wherever they may be, he hoped they knew he would be fighting for them and that he wouldn’t rest until they were home again, he wouldn't be done with this war until he knew they were safe and sound.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to point out any mistakes/grammar issues/inconsistencies/etc.
> 
> You can find me at tumblr: ivorydice.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So who ordered the depressing fic with extra depression, hold the happiness? Anyone?
> 
> Listen, this is turning out even more sad than I had first anticipated, and you're probably gonna hate me for it. Please don't hate me? Like seriously, people cry and it's _sad_. I made _myself_ sad writing this.
> 
> I'm sorry if parts of this chapter are a little jarring, I am ~experrrimenting~
> 
> This chapter is also mostly Ravus centric. And it's also over 12K!! WHAT THE DIGGITY DARN FUDGE BALLS? I'm sorry, okay, it just happened.
> 
> As always, your comments/kudos/etc means a _lot_ to me, thank you so so much for that, I love you  <3 <3

  
  
Ravus gazed up at the ceiling for a very, very long time. It was difficult to fall asleep when the lights above were constantly on, harsh against his eyes and making his head hurt. The room wasn’t particularly warm, there wasn’t a heat source that he could see, and he had to wonder if the vent in the top corner near the door was pushing cold air through. The bed was a little hard underneath him, slightly cramped in the way it was pressed up against the wall, and he was curious as to why they had sheets and pillows yet no blankets.  
  
Then again, he was simply comparing everything to what he was used to having back home.  
  
Home, that beautiful, enchanting place, the kind of place that fairy tales were based on. It was magnificent in every way, and it was most likely in ruins now, a burnt out shell, littered with the bodies of the dead - and that included his mother.  
  
Ravus squeezed his eyes shut, pretended they weren’t watering the way they were, pretended that it didn’t _hurt_ so much. He wished he had died. He wished she hadn’t jumped in front of him, he wished he had done _something_ to save her instead of watching as she burned and bled and fell before him.  
  
He had the training. He knew how to fight. He had been trained for combat since he was a boy, the way a future king was expected to rise to conflict should he ever be needed, and yet he hadn’t done anything, he hadn’t searched for a weapon, hadn’t pulled one from the grasp of one of the many dead that had surrounded him. He had merely sat there and _watched_ , frozen with horror as her blood had splattered over his face.  
  
And no one had helped. The _Queen_ had been in danger, and no one had _helped_ her.  
  
Ravus turned his head to look at the children laying on the other bed. They were curled up closely, arms wrapped around each other, legs tangled. It was such a picture of innocence and it would have been rather heartwarming if it wasn’t for the situation they were in and the events that had brought them here.  
  
He couldn’t bear to look at Noctis for long. He couldn’t see that small face without a sudden surge of rage running through him, bitterness clinging to his chest with sharp, cold claws. True, Noctis hadn’t orchestrated the attack himself, but his very presence in Tenebrae had obviously been the reason behind it. He had been seeking healing, after all, recovering from such grievous wounds, and Ravus had heard King Regis’s whispered words to his mother, the suspicions that the daemon responsible for his son’s near death experience had been sent by the Empire.  
  
So they had been seeking recovery in Tenebrae after an assassination attempt from Niflheim. They had practically left the door wide open behind them, had all but invited their enemies in, practically _daring_ Niflheim to attack them then.  
  
And they had. The Empire had seized its chance.  
  
And King Regis, the mighty warrior, the protector of the Crystal, his mother’s _dear friend_ , had nearly abandoned them. He had run away, thought only of himself and his son, and he had _ran_. He would have left them all to burn just to save his precious Noctis.  
  
To think that Ravus had once looked up to the man. To think that he had once marvelled at his bravery and his tenacity, the sheer amount of determination he had to win this war of his.  
  
To think that Ravus had once watched that man and how he had ruled and he had thought _yes_ , _this is how I would want to rule_.  
  
How very funny that was.  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
When Luna woke, it was to the harsh brightness of the lights above them and to the strange, confusing feeling of not knowing how much time had actually passed. It certainly wasn’t a pleasant feeling, it left her reeling, disoriented, and she frowned up at the ceiling above. How long had they slept for? Minutes, hours, days? Was it daytime outside or was it night? There wasn’t a clock in this room of theirs, and not one of them was wearing a watch, so there was no way to tell.  
  
Beside her, Noctis was fast asleep, his cheek on her shoulder, a hand holding onto her arm. He looked peaceful like this, free of any of the worries and pain that plagued him while he was awake. She half-wished that he could stay like this forever just so that he would remain untouched, unhurt.  
  
Ravus was still on the other bed, turned towards them, and it looked as if he was asleep too. He didn’t look anywhere near as peaceful, however, his brow furrowed slightly, lips turned downwards, cheeks a little pale. She remembered his wound and winced, wishing she had spared a thought to check on it again. Then again, he was sleeping on his injured arm, and so it couldn’t be too bad. If it was, he would have done something more about it by now.  
  
An electronic beep on the other side of the door pulled her out of her thoughts, and then the locks were slamming open. The noise startled Noctis awake beside her, his body jerking, fingers clenching a little on her arm as he tensed. Luna reached out and squeezed his hand, then sat up to watch as Ardyn strolled in, followed by a single soldier - one of those strange, robotic ones - carrying a cardboard box.  
  
“Good morning, children!” Ardyn smiled at them. “I come bearing gifts.”  
  
She certainly didn’t trust Ardyn and his so called “gifts”, so Luna refused to go and see what was in the box. She pushed herself further up on the bed, until the headrails were digging into her back, and she wrapped an arm around Noctis as he followed suit.  
  
Ravus had rolled onto his back, glaring at the other man. “Just how long do you intend on keeping us locked up in here?”  
  
Ardyn raised an eyebrow at him, then looked at the soldier, pointing at the single table in the room. “Set it down over there,” he said, and the soldier, surprisingly enough, obeyed him. Luna stared as it moved, turning in the direction of the table and dropping the box on top of it, then it turned and made its way out of the room, standing just to the side of the doorway.  
  
There was something strangely disturbing about those things.  
  
“Well?” Ravus said. “Aren’t you going to answer me?”  
  
Ardyn regarded him in silence for a moment, before he tipped his head with a faint smile. “Well, that all depends on King Regis, now, doesn’t it?”  
  
Beside her, Noctis jolted a little, as if he had been electrocuted. “My dad?”  
  
“Yes, dear boy,” Ardyn glanced at him, “your _dad_. Now, if King Regis surrenders and refuses any further activity in this war, then perhaps we can see to your release.” He tilted his head, his expression turning to something a little more sympathetic. “Unfortunately, I believe he will continue to fight to try and _save_ you, and, well, isn’t that just a pity?”  
  
Luna lowered her eyes, her heart pounding at the fact that he was speaking about King Regis in the _present_ tense, he was referring to him as if he was still alive. King Regis was _alive_.  
  
He couldn’t surrender. She didn’t know enough about war and politics, but she knew that he couldn’t surrender, he simply couldn’t risk it. She hoped he wouldn’t give in to them, that he would continue to show everyone his strength and would refuse to back down.  
  
“So, to answer your question, Your Highness, we’ll be keeping you here for the...foreseeable future.”  
  
Ravus’s jaw clenched, a strange look flashing in his eyes, and then he sat up. “In that case, I have a proposition for you.”  
  
Ardyn smiled again. “For me? Oh, you shouldn’t have.”  
  
“Allow me to join you.”  
  
Noctis gasped beside her and Luna’s neck hurt when she snapped her head towards her brother, wondering if she had heard him correctly. But he wasn’t looking at them, his eyes were firmly fixed on the other man in the room, his chin held high, his gaze solemn and serious. Ravus was _serious_ about this. He _actually_ wanted to join Niflheim? He wanted to fight beside their enemy?  
  
Ardyn was staring back at him with an unreadable expression. “I beg your pardon?”  
  
“Let me join you,” Ravus repeated. “Allow me to join your ranks and I will fight beside you, I will help you bring Lucis down.”  
  
“No!” Noctis cried. “You can’t!”  
  
“Shut up,” Ravus glanced at them, eyes hard, before he turned back to Ardyn. “My mother is dead, and since I am next in line for the throne, that means _I_ am now the King of Tenebrae.”  
  
Ardyn smirked a little, as if he was amused. “A little early to be calling yourself King, considering you haven’t even been crowned—”  
  
“I _am_ King,” Ravus cut in harshly, and his hands clenched where they were resting on the bed. “Let me fight with you, and Tenebrae will be an ally of Niflheim. Your empire will have more power, and Lucis will be much weaker.”  
  
Luna shook her head. “Mother would never stand for that—”  
  
“Shut up, Luna.”  
  
“You would _betray_ your own country!” Luna snapped back. “You selfish _traitor_ _—_ ”  
  
“Shut _up_ , Luna!”  
  
“Ah, barely in here a day and already you are turning on each other,” Ardyn cut in with a chuckle. “Children are such _savage_ things, are they not?”  
  
Ravus glared at him. “I’m not a child.”  
  
“If you say so.”  
  
“Will you just—” Ravus paused, then lowered his eyes, as if he was showing this man _respect_ , and Luna suddenly wished she had hit him yesterday instead of shoving him. “Think over my offer. Consider it.”  
  
Ardyn appeared to roll his eyes, but he was soon nodding. “Very well, I shall _consider_ it. Now,” he gestured to the box. “Please, do make use of these.”  
  
Luna eyed the box suspiciously, struggling to keep up with the sudden change in subject, that this man was able to just brush away the fact that Ravus had just offered to betray their country and their people and their mother’s beliefs. “What are they?” she murmured, swallowing past the bitter taste in her mouth.  
  
“Clothes,” Ardyn replied, and she must have looked surprised, because he raised an eyebrow and smiled. “What did you think was in there? Anyway, make use of them, _and_ of the bath in there, you’re all positively filthy. Most likely from the fires yesterday, hmm?”  
  
Luna flinched at that, because it was all coming back to her now, vivid flashes in her mind of the airships, the explosions, people being shot down and attacked right before her eyes, her mother…  
  
Luna shook her head, trying to get rid of those horrible, horrible thoughts, and when she looked up she saw Ardyn was heading for the door. “Wait!”  
  
He paused, turning around in surprise. “Yes? What can I do for you, princess?”  
  
She bit her lip and ran her fingers along the bed under her, heart pounding in her chest and her voice feeling weak as she said, “Could we...could we have a clock, please?”  
  
Ardyn stared. “A clock?” he echoed, voice flat.  
  
“Yes,” Luna nodded. “I’d just...like to keep track of the time.”  
  
He was still watching her with that expression, as if he was caught between laughter and dumbfoundedness, and it made her feel stupid, made her wish she had never even opened her mouth in the first place. Then he gave her his usual smile, slow and amused, _always_ so amused, what on Eos did this man find so funny? “Well, keeping track of the time does help one add structure to their day,” he said eventually. “So, yes, Your Highness, you may have a clock. I’ll bring one to you soon.”  
  
“Thank you,” Luna mumbled, and her heart was still pounding long after the door was closed and the locks went back into place.  
  
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, after all. Maybe this Ardyn man was nicer than she had first expected, maybe he wasn’t particularly keen on the idea of children being locked up. If he would let her have a clock, of all things, then maybe they could ask for other things too. Maybe he could help make their imprisonment here a little more bearable, and, that way, they could try and stay calm and sane until King Regis came to rescue them.  
  
“A _clock_ ,” Ravus said suddenly, and he had that tone in his voice, that unimpressed, sneering tone.  
  
“I’m not talking to you,” Luna replied. She got up off the bed and walked over to the table, her curiosity getting the best of her, and she pulled the cardboard box closer so she could peer in.  
  
Sure enough, there were clothes inside, as well as a few towels. She pulled them out one by one, inspecting them. They weren’t particularly quality materials, the clothes especially. Some of them seem a little worn and raggedy, certainly not anything she was used to, but what struck her the most was that there was a mixture of appropriate sizes. Some would fit Ravus, some would fit Noctis, and some would fit her.  
  
She had to wonder just where they had gotten children’s clothes from. Were they just lying around? Did they belong to someone else?  
  
They really did need to get cleaned up, now that she thought about it. It hadn’t mattered last night, when everything had been so new and fresh in her mind, but now she was painfully aware of the smell of smoke in her clothes and the dirt under her nails.  
  
She shivered, closing her eyes, fighting against the memories that wanted to take hold again, the sounds, the _sounds_ , and she clutched the clothes to her chest and said, “I’m going to run a bath.”  
  
  
~&~  
  
  
It was silly now that she thought about it, but she had never ran her own bath before. There had always been people running around after her, treating her like—well, like a _princess_ , doing _this_ for her and doing _that_ for her, no matter how many times she insisted that she was fine and could handle things on her own. She was growing up, after all.  
  
But she had never ran her own bath.  
  
It wasn’t difficult. Just drop the stopper into the drain, then turn the faucet, make sure the water didn’t get too hot. But she clung to the edges of the tub anyway, watching as the water built up and up, steam beginning to rise, and she pressed a hand to her aching chest as she tried to fight back her sobs.  
  
It was silly to think about. Steaming hot baths in a large, shiny white porcelain tub, in a giant bathroom with bright sunshine streaming in, bubbles everywhere, sometimes music playing in the other room and then, _and then_ , her mother afterwards, staying with her to brush her hair, with that beautiful smile and that melodic laugh as they shared some of the servants’ gossip.  
  
And that was all gone now. She would never see her mother again. She would never see that smile, never hear that laugh.  
  
Luna bit her lip and stripped herself of her clothes, climbing into the cramped, slightly dirty tub in this tiny bathroom with no windows, no sunshine, no bubbles, no music or laughter floating in through the doorway.  
  
No home. No mother.  
  
She brought her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and fought back her tears.  
  
  
~&~  
  
  
Once his sister was done with the bathroom, Ravus found himself suddenly desperate to get clean, to be rid of the dirt and blood staining his body. As soon as she came out of the room, he grabbed up a towel and some of the clothes that would fit him, and he locked himself inside.  
  
Afterwards, when he was back in the main room, brushing his towel over his head and sitting down on his bed again, he noticed Luna staring at him expectantly.  
  
“What?” he huffed out eventually, when that piercing gaze wouldn't leave him.  
  
“You have to help Noctis,” she said.  
  
Ravus stared at her, then moved his gaze to the boy on the other bed. He was sitting up, legs crossed, biting his lip as he stared down at the bed, picking at the sheets almost nervously. Ravus pushed down the anger that wanted to surge forth, the need to tell the boy to _stop_ with his moodiness. “Help him with what?”  
  
“With his bath,” Luna answered, a little exasperated. “He still can’t walk much, and he will need help getting in and out of the tub.”  
  
Ravus closed his eyes and grit his teeth together. “Then why don’t _you_ do it?”  
  
“I’m a girl, it’s not appropriate! You are both boys, and you’re stronger than I am, so _you_ have to do it.”  
  
“I can go by myself, Luna,” Noctis mumbled.  
  
“No, you can’t,” Luna replied, her voice gentling a little, and briefly, very briefly, Ravus felt a flash of jealousy, that this mere whelp of a boy had not only stolen his home, his mother, his _life_ , but he had also stolen his sister’s allegiance along with everything else.  
  
A hand touched his arm, and Ravus opened his eyes again, staring down into his sister’s piercing gaze, heart clenching in his chest at how _concerned_ she looked, how _tired_ she seemed, and he remembered. He wasn’t the only one who had lost something, who had had things _stolen_ from him.  
  
“Please, Ravus,” Luna said, her voice quiet, imploring. “I know you’re hurting and that you’re angry right now, but please. Just help him get cleaned up.”  
  
And so he found himself helping Noctis, carrying him into the bathroom and setting him on the toilet seat as he ran his bath. Noctis was silent, eyes down the whole time, shoulders tense, as if he didn’t dare even look at him, as if he was _frightened_ of him.  
  
_Good_ , a part of him screamed. Noctis _should_ be frightened of him. He was about to join Niflheim and tear his country apart, he was going to bring King Regis to his knees for what he had done. Noctis _should_ feel scared.  
  
The boy could stand for a while as Ravus helped him strip, his face pulling in pain a little as he moved his arms upwards, but he didn’t once make a sound. Ravus had to give him credit for that, especially once he was in the tub and hugging his knees to himself, the wounds on his back bare for the world to see.  
  
They were now more scar tissues than anything else. Several large lines, _slashes_ , that ran diagonally across his back, wide, a dark pink in colour, still rather angry looking despite that they were practically healed. His mother had done an incredible job with the wounds.  
  
Now, Noctis’s healing mostly consisted in physical therapy, in getting his body to move again to try and combat the pain. He had been doing well. Ravus could remember watching him just the other evening, smiling as Noctis had been walking carefully, Luna in front of him and walking backwards, her hands ready to catch him at any moment, Umbra and Pryna at their sides as if they were also helping.  
  
It had been inspiring to see this small boy trying his best, trying to impress his father, trying to impress Luna. Trying to get his life back.  
  
Some life he had now.  
  
Some life _they_ had now.  
  
Noctis didn’t do anything in the tub. He didn’t move, he didn’t speak, he simply stayed curled up and tense despite that the position must have been sending pain down his spine. Ravus let out an annoyed sigh and grabbed the pathetic excuse for a washcloth, setting about scrubbing the boy’s skin free of dirt.  
  
Noctis flinched away from him, but didn’t stop him. “Are you really gonna join Niflheim?” he murmured after a moment.  
  
Ravus fought to keep his face blank. “Yes.”  
  
“You’re gonna…” Noctis’s face scrunched up a little. “You’re gonna turn against my dad? You’re gonna fight him?”  
  
Ravus clenched his jaw and rested his wrists against the edge of the tub, waiting until Noctis met his gaze to say, “ _Yes_.”  
  
Noctis’s mouth pulled downwards and he sniffed, glancing off to the side. “I thought we were friends,” he said, and his voice was so quiet Ravus could barely hear him.  
  
He thought they were friends. He thought they were _friends_ , after _everything_ that had happened, after his home had been destroyed and his mother had been murdered.  
  
He could remember meeting this boy. Five years old, bouncing with excitement at the simple idea of meeting other children, at getting to show them around his home. This boy, with his wide eyes and floppy hair and a sweet smile. He could remember the games they all used to play together - hide and seek, sword fighting, races, play wrestling. He could remember the pranks they would pull - on Luna, on Ignis, on King Regis himself, on some of the other council members in Insomnia, despite that it obviously hadn’t been _proper_ for princes to act such ways.  
  
He could remember the way his mother and King Regis had simply looked the other way at their behaviour, smiles on their lips and something warm in their eyes.  
  
But that was another life. That was a safe and happy life, one which had just gone up in flames, and Ravus couldn’t think about those times without a surge of bitterness trying to choke him. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t _fair_.  
  
“How can I be friends…” he bit out, but it was a struggle, his voice sounded strangled even to his own ears and his eyes were stinging as he leaned closer to the boy, “how can I _possibly_ be friends with the son of the man who _ruined my life_?”  
  
Noctis’s face crumpled, but he fought back those little sniffs, he made an effort to keep them back as he turned his face away, and Ravus felt hate trying to burn its way through his veins, but he couldn’t tell what he hated anymore, not even as he continued to scrub the boy clean of the ashes of his home.  
  
He pretended he couldn’t feel the tears slipping past his own lashes, and he pretended he didn’t long for those days when things were simple, when they could just be children, happy and free.  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
They quickly became painfully aware that there wasn’t anything to do. They had no form of entertainment, only each other and a measly four walls, and, soon enough, sleep became a more tempting thing instead. Time would pass quicker then, surely, and they wouldn’t have to focus on their boredom or their memories, their longings.  
  
Their hunger.  
  
It was a stupid thing, really, since it wasn’t as if they had gone forever without food. He had eaten _yesterday_ , and yet hunger settled in all the same, that empty, gnawing feeling in his stomach with the occasional rumbles and groans that sounded louder than they had any right to be.  
  
Ravus wrapped his arms around his stomach and rolled over, facing the wall. He knew the children had to be feeling just as hungry, if not more so, and, despite his anger, he felt a twinge of frustration for them.  
  
They were _children_ , after all, they were _growing_. They needed food.  
  
And would they always be in this room? Surely not, surely they would be let out at some point, for a change of scenery, to stretch their legs, exercise, _something_.  
  
Ravus glanced around the room, took in the pitiful sights it had to offer. It looked like a prison cell more than anything else and, with a growing sense of unease, he had the distant thought that prisoners might not get such treatment. Prisoners were meant to be kept locked up, after all. They were meant to be kept in one place.  
  
But they weren’t _just_ prisoners. They were royalty, they were important members of other kingdoms.  
  
_Enemy_ kingdoms, Ravus realized with a shudder. In the eyes of Niflheim, they were enemies.  
  
Hopefully not for long. Hopefully Ardyn had considered the true potential of his offer and would accept him into their ranks, even if it was just as a simple soldier. Then he could get _out_ of here, he could find a way to enact justice against those who had wronged them.  
  
Maybe he could even find a way to pull some leverage, find a way to get Luna out. If Tenebrae became an ally of Niflheim, then surely that meant she would be released.  
  
But Noctis….  
  
Ravus clenched his jaw and stared up at the ceiling. If he and Luna managed to earn their freedom, then that meant Noctis could very well be left here on his own. An eight year old boy who could barely walk without assistance, left in a single room, all alone, with nothing to do.  
  
He might have been angry at King Regis, he might have been thinking of nothing but revenge the second they were taken, but even Ravus had to admit that leaving Noctis to such a fate would be _cruel_.  
  
But what was he supposed to _do_?  
  
Ravus squeezed his eyes shut, his heart clenching in his chest. Because he _knew_ what his mother would do, he knew what she would ask of him right now, if she were still alive.  
  
But she _wasn’t_ alive, and that was the point.  
  
The locks moved and the door was suddenly pushed open. Ravus moved upwards, sat against the railings at the top of his bed, watching as Ardyn came in, followed by a single soldier pushing along a cart.  
  
“Hello, children!” Ardyn called out, smiling over at the two on the bed as they jerked awake and sat up. “Hello. How are you all? You must be hungry by now, hmm?”  
  
The smell wafted over to Ravus then, and he realized that there were trays of food on the cart, being set out on the round table. It didn’t look like much from what he could see, but it was _food_ , it looked warm and it certainly didn’t smell terrible. He schooled his features, trying not to look too eager, ignoring how his stomach felt like it was getting emptier by the second.  
  
“All right,” Ardyn said to the soldier. “Please stand outside and wait for me.” The soldier took the cart and wheeled it out, the door closing with a bang. Ardyn had turned to face them all again, looking at them expectantly. “Well? It would certainly be bad manners to let the food go cold simply out of spite.”  
  
Noctis was the one to give in, climbing off the bed and hobbling over to the table. Luna gasped and rushed off after him, hands out and held close to him, ready to catch him at any moment should he fall. It looked painful, the boy was still rather awkward at walking, but it appeared as if his desire for food was far more important at that moment.  
  
Ardyn, he noticed, was watching the little prince with an unreadable look in his eyes. Something about it, however, made a cold shiver run down Ravus’s spine.  
  
Eventually the temptation was too much and, keeping his gaze averted, Ravus made his way over to the table and sat beside his sister. The food didn’t look _too_ great up close, some sort of stew, and, briefly, he wondered if they might have put something in it.  
  
As if reading his mind, Ardyn let out an exasperated sigh, sitting in the remaining chair opposite them. “For heaven’s sake, it’s not _poisoned_ ,” he said. “What would be the point in that?”  
  
Ravus fought back the urge to glare at the man, remembering that he _needed_ to be as polite and respectable as possible if he wanted a shot at getting on Niflheim’s good side, and so he kept his mouth shut and ate the stew in silence.  
  
Ardyn watched them all, chin resting on his hand, smiling a little. “It’s like owning a bunch of pets.”  
  
“We’re not animals,” Luna murmured. At the following silence and Ravus’s sharp glance, she straightened her shoulders. “Well, we’re _not_.”  
  
“No, I suppose you aren’t,” Ardyn replied. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a square, black object, setting it on the table in front of them. “Your clock, my dear.”  
  
Luna paused in her eating to reach out for the digital clock, picking it up, her fingers stroking over the screen. “Thank you,” she murmured.  
  
Ardyn merely nodded. “You’re welcome.”  
  
They ate in an awkward silence. Ardyn sat there opposite them as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world to do, taking a pen and folder out of some inner pocket in his jacket and sitting back in his chair, writing down notes. Ravus wondered what was so important, what he was writing. Troop movements? Government decisions? Notes about _them_? Nothing at all, merely a pretense to try and unnerve them a little further?  
  
Why was he sitting with them at _all_? Was he intending to discuss Ravus’s earlier proposal? Is that what the folder was, was it something to do with Ravus and his joining their army?  
  
Unable to stand the silence any longer, Ravus placed his spoon down and sat up straight, eyeing the other man warily. “Have you considered my offer, then?”  
  
Ardyn’s eyes drifted up to him, lazily, almost uninterested. “Hmm?”  
  
“My offer,” Ravus stared at him. “To join you and offer Tenebrae’s allegiance to Niflheim.”  
  
“Oh, yes, _that_ ,” Ardyn let out a chuckle and he continued writing in his folder. “Well that doesn’t even need considering, does it?”  
  
Ravus frowned. “What does that mean? Is that a yes?”  
  
“It’s a no, Your Highness, although you are very generous to offer, indeed.”  
  
No? It was a _no_? Ravus swallowed, clenching his jaw, and fought to remain calm. This man, _Ardyn_ , was very much in control of the situation, and Ravus couldn’t afford to lose his temper. “I do not understand,” he said, and his voice was only a little tense to his own ears. “I am offering you Tenebrae’s assistance on a _platter_ , and you refuse? Just like that?”  
  
“We are refusing because you hold no authority to offer to such a thing,” Ardyn smiled at him.  
  
“What?” Ravus snapped. “I am the _King_.”  
  
“You aren’t,” Ardyn replied. “You are not the king until you are crowned, and you cannot be crowned while you remain in here.”  
  
In the corners of his eyes, he could see Luna and Noctis staring at them, remaining so very silent and still, as if they didn’t dare move. It left Ravus with a strange shiver along his skin and a bad taste in his mouth. “Well then, let me out,” he said. “Let me return to Tenebrae to receive my coronation and then I will form a treaty with your empire.”  
  
Ardyn grimaced, making a strange motion with his hands, as if the idea was painful. “Now, you see, that’s where things are a little bit tricky,” the man said. He closed the folder he had been writing in and returned it to his inside pocket, then sat back, clasping his hands and resting them on the table. “Considering your mother is now no longer with us - may she rest in peace - and you, the current heir, are unable to take up your duty because of your current circumstances, Tenebrae has now come into the care of Lucis and King Regis.”  
  
Ravus closed his eyes, suddenly feeling so _very_ tired. Would that man ever stop stealing things away from him?  
  
“And now members of his council and your mother’s council are governing the kingdom in your stead, and they will do so until your return and until they see you are fit to rule.” Ardyn chuckled suddenly. “And, well, if they learned that you intended to swear your allegiance to our empire, and they _would_ learn, well then they would overrule you, wouldn’t they? They would _never_ let you become king until you forgo such an idea.”  
  
Ravus shook his head and stared at the man. “Then let me join you anyway. I will fight for you.”  
  
“Why?” Ardyn looked genuinely confused. “We have no need of you. You are, essentially, useless to us.”  
  
“I am _not_ useless.”  
  
“Oh, but you _are_.” Ardyn leaned forward in his chair, smiling once more, and Ravus could have sworn there was something in his eyes in that moment, something almost _malicious_ , “A boy who might never be crowned, Blood of the Oracle and yet you have no powers, and, most of all, you aren’t the _only_ heir to Tenebrae’s throne…”  
  
Ravus stared at him, unable to speak past the lump in his throat, past the cold shudders running along his skin.  
  
Ardyn tilted his head. “It makes one think—why should we even keep you at all?”  
  
Beside him, Luna gasped.  
  
“Tell me, Your Highness, what use are you to me? What could you possibly give me?”  
  
Ravus lowered his eyes, unable to give him an answer, unable to give him _anything_. If what Ardyn said was true, then he really had no power in Tenebrae, he had no sway, and there was no chance King Regis would listen to him on the matter if Ravus were to say that he was severing ties with Lucis. His mother’s council neither, they were just as invested in the war and the allegiance as she had been.  
  
Everything, this whole plan of his, had hinged on the idea that he was _King_. But he wasn’t. He held no power there, and he held no power here. He wouldn’t be able to escape. He wouldn’t be able to help Luna escape.  
  
He really was useless.  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
The first week seemed to pass by really, really slowly. The only way they could tell day from night was because of Luna’s clock, but glancing at it constantly didn’t really help them, since it only worked to show just _how_ slow the time passed, how they had nothing to do.  
  
Noctis got bored easily. He tried not to, tried to remember that they had more _important_ things to worry about, that this wasn’t simply some trip away from home, but it settled in all the same. There were only so many times he could count the cracks on the ceiling, there were only so many times he could try and find pictures in the dirty marks on the walls.  
  
And not doing anything led to thinking and that led to remembering.  
  
Luna’s home. His home.  
  
His dad.  
  
He dreamed about his dad’s face, sometimes happy, sometimes sad. Sometimes he would be in the Regalia with him, just the two of them, speeding down the streets of Insomnia, with the cool breeze on their faces and his dad would talk to him about meaningless things.  
  
And sometimes he would be back home, or running through Fenestala Manor, or a mixture of both, with Luna and Ravus and Ignis, and they would play and laugh and would just be _together_ , with his dad and Luna’s mom watching over them, and things would be like they were _before_ , before any of this had happened.  
  
And sometimes, sometimes, he would be back _there_ , back amongst the screaming, with his dad on the ground, bleeding into the grass and speaking in a voice Noctis had never heard before.  
  
Noctis hated sleeping, and he hated waking up.  
  
It seemed Ravus hated it too. He didn’t do much of anything after his offer to join Niflheim was refused, he simply laid in bed, curled up on himself, staring at the wall or the ceiling or at _nothing_. He didn’t talk to them, he didn’t help them, he barely even looked at them. He would lay in his bed as if he wanted to remain there for the rest of his life, until sleep would eventually pull him under, and then he would wake up with a cry on his lips, a tear or two falling down his cheeks, a look of fear in his eyes.  
  
Noctis knew all about nightmares, and he wished he could do something, he wished he could help. But Ravus...Ravus didn’t want his help. Ravus didn’t seem to want anything anymore.  
  
After asking for the clock, Luna started asking for more things. Books, pencils, crayons, toys, blankets, other things, and Ardyn would walk in with a box in his arms and a smile on his face and he would call out, “Children! Come look at what I’ve brought you today, you are simply going to _love_ this.”  
  
As if it was _his_ idea to give them those things. As if he was a friend of theirs, as if he was someone they could _trust_.  
  
But Noctis had seen him. He had seen the way he had _hurt_ his dad, had pinned him to the ground and had made him scream.  
  
Ardyn could smile all he wanted, he could act kind and caring, but he knew, Noctis knew, that he wasn’t their friend, and he could never be trusted.  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
Ravus curled up under his blanket, keeping it pulled up over his head, hiding away in the darkness it provided. If he concentrated hard enough, if he let the numbness fall away, he could simply pretend that they were home again, and that Luna and Noctis were simply in his bedroom with him, making a nuisance of themselves as always, yet content and happy while they played together. It wasn’t unusual for them to bother him, for them to rush into his room in the early morning and invite him on a new “adventure” of theirs, because they _wanted_ him to come along, they looked up to him and admired him and they wanted to impress him with their silly little antics.  
  
But how could they look up to him? How could they have _ever_ looked up to him?  
  
He was nothing. He was useless.  
  
“Luna, what colour blue should I use?”  
  
Gods, Noctis’s _voice_. He sounded...he sounded like a shadow of himself, he was a mere ghost of who he used to be, even worse than after the daemon attack.  
  
He had always been so full of life, with bright smiles and an easy way of talking. Then his “accident” had happened, and when he had been brought to Tenebrae, it was as if he was a completely different child, as if he had been replaced by someone else. He had been serious, docile, quiet. Sure, a few weeks in their home had brought him somewhat out of his shell again, had made him smile, had made him a little more playful, but he had never quite been the same as he had been before.  
  
And now—now he had reverted back to that timidness. Quiet and unsure of himself, his voice hushed, almost hoarse. His movements slow and careful, as if he didn’t dare draw attention to himself.  
  
Of course, Ravus knew he hadn’t exactly helped with that. His anger towards the boy had probably driven him further into his shell. He wanted to be angry still, he wanted to feel its fire through his veins again, but all he felt now was a numbness, heavy and cold, settling over him like his blanket and making everything else seem hopeless and useless.  
  
_Useless._  
  
_I am_ not _useless._ _  
_ _  
_ _I_ am _useless._ _  
_ _  
_ _Mother, what should I do? What_ can _I do?_ _  
_ _  
_ He knew what she would want, of course. He knew what she would say.  
  
_Take care of those children. Help them. Protect them._  
  
But how could he protect them? How could he help them, when he couldn’t even help himself?  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
_Somewhere in the lands of Niflheim, closer to the Tenebraen borders, so close the buildings of an outpost are just say visible on the horizon, a scouting team on the journey home comes across a rather suspicious and conspicuous looking metal crate that bears the symbol of the Empire._ _  
_ _  
_ _Once they determine it isn’t rigged with explosives, they crack it open, hoping for imperial secrets and documents, hoping for possible weapons, possible food and beverages._ _  
_ _  
_ _What they find is a bundle of clothes, dirty, smelling of smoke and covered in ash. Black and grey and white clothes, different sizes, different styles._ _  
_ _  
_ _Children’s clothes._ _  
_ _  
_ _They take it with them and, once they return home, they reluctantly show an exhausted king of a foreign land, whose eyes are a little too tired, whose shoulders are a little too tense, bearing the weight of the world on them, a weight far heavier than Titan’s meteor could ever be._ _  
_ _  
_ _They show him the children’s clothes and he turns away in silence, and they pretend they can’t hear the way his breath hitches, they pretend they can’t see the way his jaw clenches, the way his hands tremble._ _  
_ _  
_ _Somewhere in the lands of Niflheim, there are three children; two princes and a princess, stripped of their clothes and of their safety, their fates left unknown, and all anyone can do at that moment is pray._  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
Fire and screams and _blood_ _—_ so much blood, it was on his face and on his hands, coating his fingers and glowing in the light of the flames, and he was screaming, for his mother, for someone to help them, but no one came, no one _ever_ came, no one cared—  
  
Ravus jerked awake, clapping a hand over his mouth to fight back the sounds that wanted to escape, but it didn’t matter, his cry had already left his lips, had echoed around them painfully in their small room, stark and loud and obvious.  
  
He covered his face with his hands, letting out a breath that was far too shaky for his liking, his heart still hammering in his chest, a lump in his throat that made him feel nauseous.  
  
He jumped when a hand touched his shoulder, small and tentative, pulling away just as quickly, and he turned his head to see Noctis standing beside his bed. He was a little wobbly, eyes held firmly away from him, teeth worrying at his lip.  
  
“What?” Ravus murmured, keeping his voice low when he noticed his sister was still, miraculously, asleep in the other bed.  
  
Noctis’s eyes flicked to him briefly, surprised, possibly by the fact that Ravus hadn’t instantly snapped at him and sent him away, and he had to wince at that thought. “I, uh…”  
  
“Spit it out so we can both get back to sleep,” Ravus said.  
  
Noctis’s hands were held behind his back, but he moved them in front of Ravus now, holding something out. Ravus frowned and took it, turning it over and around to examine the object. It was a piece of card, carefully cut out with the safety scissors Ardyn had given the children, and coloured in with pencils. It was a crude drawing, but the creature was, in fact, rather cute looking, with light blue skin, large ears, a long thick tail and some sort of red spot on its head.  
  
“It’s—um, it’s Carbuncle,” Noctis mumbled. He was picking at the skin on his knuckles, staring down at his hands rather than at Ravus. “I got a lot of nightmares after—after my accident. So my, um...my dad gave me this figurine thing, of Carbuncle, and he protected my dreams, made the bad stuff go away.” His eyes looked up at Ravus then, so very big and blue and sad. “I just...I kinda hoped that maybe this...maybe it could take your bad dreams away.”  
  
Ravus traced his fingers around the shape of the little fox-like creature, his eyes burning suspiciously. He had been so horrible to this boy, he knew that now, now that the anger had faded away. He had been mean to _both_ of them, had lashed out, had let them think he would abandon them, then he had closed himself off, hid under his blanket, ignored them, shut himself away.  
  
And still, _still_ , Noctis wanted to help, wanted to be his friend.  
  
“Um…” Noctis was still standing beside his bed, wobbling a little, still picking at his fingers despite that the skin seemed to be turning red and sore. “Um, yeah. I hope it helps. Night, Ravus.”  
  
And Ravus couldn’t take his eyes away from the drawing, couldn’t put it down, even as he listened to Noctis climbing back into bed and settling down next to Luna. “Goodnight, Noctis,” Ravus murmured.  
  
_Take care of those children. Help them. Protect them._  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
It was late when they returned to Insomnia, and there were many things still to be done, despite the fact that everyone constantly insisted that Regis let himself rest for a moment.  
  
It was almost a comfort to see the city lights, to drive past the neon signs and the bustling streets, to stare out of the window of the car at his citizens still carrying on with life, blissfully unaware of the tragedy that had befallen their kingdom.  
  
They didn’t know. These people, his citizens, they didn’t _know_. Noctis had been taken from him, had been cruelly snatched away and carefully hidden somewhere within the Empire. Regis’s entire _world_ had been irrevocably changed, and yet life had carried on for the rest of the world.  
  
Nearly two weeks, and they still had nothing, and he couldn’t stay away from his own kingdom forever. They were still at war with Niflheim, he had a duty to defend his citizens, and there was only so much he could do in Tenebrae. So he had had to return, had to come home, had to _carry on_.  
  
As if it was just so simple, so easy.  
  
Leaving Tenebrae had been a painful and very difficult thing to do, one of the hardest things he had ever done in his life. He had heard some of his men muttering to themselves as they had boarded the train to leave Fenestala Manor. They had been praising him for his strength, wondering where he found such a thing, how he could continue while their prince was now a captive of Niflheim. There had been admiration and wonder and respect in their voices.  
  
What they hadn’t seen was Clarus’s hand, tight upon his arm and making sure he went along with them. What they hadn’t heard was Clarus’s threats, whispered into his ear, telling him that his shield _would_ render him unconscious and drag him back to Insomnia if he refused to cooperate.  
  
Regis couldn’t hold any grudges against him. Clarus was a good man, one of the best he had ever known, and his shield was just doing what he would always do - he would think for him when Regis’s head was in pieces, just as he had done so many times before.  
  
Walking up the steps to the Citadel without Noctis by his side was so very painful, and it was made even worse when he saw Ignis Scientia waiting patiently in the foyer.  
  
The first thought that ran through his mind, oddly enough, was that Ignis should be in bed. It was long after nine and, mature for his age or not, he was still a growing boy and needed his sleep. But, of course, Ignis was ever faithful to the prince, dutiful and determined, and he had most likely been waiting there for a while, expecting Noctis to come through those doors so that he could tend to him.  
  
But Noctis wasn’t here, and clearly no one had let Ignis know what was going on.  
  
Upon seeing him, Ignis straightened his shoulders and held his head high, hands clasped in front of him as he bowed. “Your Majesty,” he said. “Will His Highness be needing any supper, or has he already been seen to?”  
  
Regis stood before the young boy and simply took a moment to marvel at him. Such a bright, intelligent young thing, and so invested in his duty, so absolutely loyal to Noctis, that he hadn’t left his son’s side throughout the five years they had known each other. And here he was, still loyal and still waiting for his prince, still waiting to fulfill his duty.  
  
It broke his heart, made it clench and twist within his chest. “Ignis—”  
  
Ignis was eyeing the rest of the people coming in behind Regis, his eyes darting about, looking for the prince, and there was a strange sort of dawning in his eyes, his voice turning more tense as he said, “If His Highness isn’t too tired from the trip, I could arrange for a bath to help his back and help him relax for bed—”  
  
As if that was his duty, as if Noctis didn’t have so many minders and caretakers to see to his needs. “ _Ignis_ _—_ ”  
  
“You know how he gets after travelling,” Ignis cut in, as if he hadn’t heard him speak, still eyeing the people coming through the doors. When Regis glanced back he could see that most of his retinue had come in now, and there was still no prince. The prince should have come in by now, had he been with them.  
  
He turned back to Ignis, taking in the clenched jaw, the confusion, the worry, and Regis crouched down in front of him. “Ignis.”  
  
Ignis wouldn’t look at him, eyes still on the doors, waiting, desperate to see his friend and his prince come through them. But he was a smart boy, so very smart, and the pieces were clearly beginning to fall into place. “Where’s Noct?” he asked eventually, and his voice was very, very quiet.  
  
Regis took in a deep breath, considered his options. It wouldn’t do well to lie to the boy, especially considering Ignis’s position as one of Noctis’s companions and as his future advisor. Not to mention the fact that they were close friends - Regis had a very clear image of them having dinner together some time ago and Noctis loudly and happily proclaiming to Ignis, “ _You’re my_ best _friend._ ”  
  
Despite how young he still was, lying to Ignis about everything that had happened would be cruel. Regis swallowed past the lump in his throat, keeping his voice low as he said, “Did you hear about the attack on Tenebrae?”  
  
Ignis’s eyes snapped to his and he nodded silently.  
  
“It was Niflheim,” Regis told him. “Niflheim came and they...they hurt a lot of people.”  
  
Ignis’s jaw clenched. “Did they hurt Noct?”  
  
Gods, he hoped not. He hoped that Niflheim still had the slightest shred of decency in them and would treat those children well while they remained there. “No,” Regis said, and he almost winced at how his voice wavered. “But, Ignis—they took him. Noctis, Lunafreya, and Ravus. They were captured during the attack.”  
  
“But you can just get them back,” Ignis said, frowning and shaking his head.  
  
Regis sighed. “It is a little more complicated than that, I’m afraid.”  
  
The boy reeled back then, his eyes wide and hurt as if he had been struck, and Regis wondered, distantly, if it would have hurt him a lot less if he _had_ struck him instead. There were the first sign of tears then, glinting in the harshly bright lights of the foyer, and when Ignis spoke his voice was shaking, “So he’s—Noct, he’s—not coming back?”  
  
Regis took hold of the boy’s shoulders, gripped them firmly and squeezed. “I promise you,” he said, and he ignored how hushed and weak his own voice was. “I promise that I will do _everything_ within my power to bring them back to us. Noct _will_ come back to us.”  
  
Ignis stared at him, wide-eyed and fearful, and then he nodded, straightening his shoulders again, trying to hold his head high for his King, and Regis couldn’t have felt more proud of him.  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
The children were up to something. Ravus wasn’t particularly sure _what_ , but it obviously had something to do with the pencils and crayons they were currently obsessed with. A rather peculiar thing, really, considering that Luna was growing up and crayons seemed a little young for her. He suspected it had something to do with Noctis, his sister was just trying to keep the boy busy and distracted, she was trying to keep him happy within their captivity.  
  
For all of his initial disdain at Luna’s request for a clock, he had to admit that it was a rather useful object to have. They could, indeed, keep track of the time, they could establish a structure to their day so they wouldn’t feel _too_ out of sorts. Having a constant light above them - the fluorescent lights - made it hard to adjust, made it hard to tell whether they were sleeping during the day or the night, but the clock helped with that.  
  
It also helped them keep track of just how long they had been there. Luna had written down the date they had been taken as soon as she could, and, with her clock, they knew it had been near a fortnight since they were in Tenebrae. A fortnight spent in a single room, just the three of them - four, whenever Ardyn liked to grace them with his presence, and a funny thing that was, since all he ever seemed to do was sit back and work and _watch_ them, as if they were some sort of _family_.  
  
A _fortnight_ , a single room, one meal a day, no visitors, no change of scenery, no sunlight. Only four walls, two children for company and the few “gifts” Ardyn had given them.  
  
It made Ravus angry. They were _children_. Gods damn it all, Noctis was only _eight years old_. He needed sunlight, both he and Luna needed sunlight, they needed to be outside so they could run around and play, they needed _more_ food so they could grow and be healthy.  
  
It didn’t matter whether they were prisoners or not, surely the Empire, surely _Ardyn_ , had enough heart to know that they simply couldn’t lock children away like this and leave them to wilt and wither away.  
  
A hand touched his shoulder over the blanket, gripping his arm and shaking him. “Ravus?”  
  
Ravus sighed and rolled over. Luna was smiling a little at him, seeming slightly unsure of herself. There were dark smudges beginning to form under her eyes - he wasn’t the only one with nightmares, after all - and it looked so very _wrong_ on his younger sister, on the girl who usually seemed to be sunlight personified. “Will you help us, Ravus?” she asked, biting her lip at his continued silence.  
  
Ravus frowned and looked over at Noctis, who was sat on the other bed. “With what?” he replied.  
  
Luna’s smile brightened then, turned into something a little more real. “We’re decorating the walls. Since you are the best I know with art, I thought...maybe you could help?”  
  
“I don’t think Ardyn or his superiors will appreciate you both vandalizing our living quarters,” Ravus couldn’t help but say, but he could feel a smile tugging at his lips.  
  
Luna raised her head, chin held high in the air, eyes defiant. “And I don’t care,” she smiled back at him. “This room is so bland and we want to make it nice.” She leaned closer then, her face a little more playful, and things almost could have been the way they were before. “And Niflheim should know better than to give children some crayons and leave them all alone in a room with such _terribly_ blank walls.”  
  
Ravus snorted in amusement, unable to help himself. Trust his sister, his sweet, pure-hearted little sister to find the light in even the darkest of situations, to be strong and defiant and to not let anyone smother her flame.  
  
Blood of the Oracle, through and through. Ravus had never felt more proud.  
  
“Go on, then,” he made a show of letting out a loud, put-upon sigh, but Luna and Noctis were grinning at him and were chattering away the instant he climbed out of his bed.  
  
“So, I think we should put them along this wall—” and “Oh, maybe we could make an actual picture out of it—” and “But I want the buildings over here—” and “What if they all joined together and made one big picture, that would be cool, right?” and on and on it went.  
  
They wanted to draw sylleblossoms along the wall beside their bed. Luna wanted an entire field of them, grass and flowers alike. Further along, on the wall their headrails leaned against, Noctis wanted the skyscrapers of Insomnia, and, just like that, Ravus could suddenly see the idea behind it all.  
  
They wanted something familiar, something to remind them of home, something to make them feel safe. It wasn’t exactly ideal and would most likely make them even more homesick, but who was he to deny them when they were the most happy and excited he had seen them in weeks?  
  
A _fortnight_.  
  
And, perhaps, it wasn’t such a terrible idea. Ravus eyed the walls by his bed, at the blank, slightly dirty beige. It would be nice, he thought, if he could have his own pictures, if he could lie there and trace his fingers along the familiar shapes of home, so that this wretched room of theirs wouldn’t tear away any of his memories, wouldn’t make them blur and fade within time.  
  
“What do you think?” Luna was sitting next to Noctis, eyes wide and excited, and, once again, Ravus noticed the dark circles under their eyes, the way their skin was beginning to pale a little.  
  
_Take care of those children. Help them. Protect them._  
  
Ravus nodded, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “As long as I get to draw some of Tenebrae along my walls, then sure.”  
  
Since it was fairly typical of the children to drag him into another one of their games and then have _him_ do most of the work, he shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was that this time was no different. From the initial designing on countless pieces of paper - accompanied by excited voices chattering away in his ears - to drawing the outlines on the walls, to picking out the colours they would use. They made an entire project out of it, it gave them something else to think about, it gave them something to get up for and to look forward to the next day.  
  
It was over a week before it was completely finished, the three of them careful with everything they did, not wanting to slip up in the slightest, and they ended up nearly using their entire pencil collection. The pencil would probably fade and rub away eventually - although they could always keep colouring over it to top it up - but it was worth it in the end, the satisfaction of having _finished_ a project inside their little room.  
  
Not to mention the picture wasn’t too bad, and Ravus had to commend the children for thinking up such an idea in the first place. Luna had her field of grass and sylleblossoms along the wall their bed was against, the flowers crawling along until they came across a city, a cluster of skyscrapers along the back wall. And there, in the center, was their own Citadel, half in the style of Insomnia, and half in the style of Tenebrae, the rest of the wall leading over to Ravus’s bed in a similar style to home, similar buildings, trees, waterfalls, Luna’s sylleblossoms chasing the picture throughout.  
  
“It looks kinda like our own kingdom,” Noctis said quietly.  
  
“Yes,” Luna replied. She was standing behind the young boy, arms wrapped around his shoulders, her chin resting on his head. “And what a very beautiful kingdom it is. It looks so peaceful.”  
  
Noctis turned his head to look up at them both. “Can we give it a name?”  
  
Ravus shrugged while Luna smiled. “I don’t see why not,” she said. “What shall we call it? Any ideas?”  
  
Noctis turned back to the picture. “We can call it...Not-Niflheim.”  
  
Ravus tried to fight back an amused smirk while Luna giggled into Noctis’s hair. “Very creative,” she said.  
  
“Well, I don’t know! Maybe...In...som...nibrae?”  
  
“That sounds like a disease,” Ravus commented.  
  
“You come up with one, then!”  
  
They tried, flinging answers back and forth between them, trying to mash up the names of their homes in a way that didn’t feel awkward. They tried adding in other words, such as sylleblossom and Citadel, and Ravus was about to roll his eyes and give up on the whole thing, call it _ridiculous_ \- which it _was_ \- when Noctis said, “In...sylle...brae. Insyllebrae!”  
  
Ravus considered it. “That sounds more like you are talking about something _in_ a place called Syllebrae. It’s going to rain today in Syllebrae.”  
  
Noctis looked up at him, eyes excited and yet a little too bright, and for a moment, for a brief moment, it hurt to see this boy _clinging_ to this little game of theirs, using it as a way to cope. “That could be a saying!” Noctis grinned up at him. “I’ll see you in Syllebrae. It's so peaceful in Syllebrae.”  
  
“Everyone is happy in Syllebrae,” Luna murmured, resting her cheek on Noctis’s head, eyes on the drawing before them.  
  
Noctis nodded, still smiling, but it was turning a little strained, a look that should never have been on a child’s face. “Nothing bad ever happens in Syllebrae,” he said.  
  
Ravus gazed down at them both, his chest clenching. _The children are happy and free in Syllebrae_ , he found himself thinking, and so he nodded, turning to look at their newly created kingdom. “Very well, then,” he whispered. “Syllebrae.”  
  
  
~&~  
  
  
There was a warmth at his side and a large hand in his hair, stroking through it gently, lovingly, and Noctis found himself smiling, flooded with relief as he was pulled from his dreams. “Dad,” he whispered, and he kept his eyes shut, basking in the attention just for a little while longer.  
  
His dad had finally come to get them. He had rescued them and he would make it all better now. Or maybe none of that bad stuff had ever happened, maybe it had all been a dream and he had been calling out in his sleep and now his dad was here, he was _here_ and he was going to make it all better again.  
  
The hand still carded through his hair and Noctis’s chest flooded with warmth and love. Dream or not, he had missed his dad _so much_ and so he tried to move closer to him on the bed, tried to curl up by his knees, never wanting to be parted from him ever again.  
  
As another hand gently brushed against his cheek, knuckles stroking over his skin, Noctis smiled again and tilted his head back, opening his eyes to look up at his dad.  
  
It wasn’t his dad.  
  
The hand stroking his face clapped over his mouth before he could make a sound, and the hand in his hair tightened, gripping almost painfully. “Such a trusting little thing,” Ardyn said, smiling down at him, and he looked both amused and affectionate, as if he actually _cared_ , but that couldn’t be true since the hand in Noctis’s hair was starting to _hurt_ him.  
  
Beside him, Luna was still and sleeping, which was weird because she was such a light sleeper now, she jumped awake at any noise. The same with Ravus, who was just as quiet on the other bed, and, briefly, Noctis panicked, because they were _so still_ , they looked like they were _dead_.  
  
Noctis was lifted a little, into more of a sitting position, and he couldn’t fight back, couldn’t find the energy, and he certainly couldn’t think past the strain it put on his spine. The fingers at the back of his head tightened so much he wondered if Ardyn was going to rip his hair out.  
  
“You must be so very proud of your father,” Ardyn said, in that _nice_ voice, that friendly voice, the one he always used whenever he came to see them at dinner or brought them new toys and pencils. “He has proven himself _more_ than capable in the games of war. Even _I_ was surprised at how well suited he is to such things.”  
  
Noctis tried to grip at the man’s wrist, tried to pull the hand off of his mouth so he could scream, so he could wake Ravus up, but his own hand was just too small, too weak. He used his other hand to shove against Ardyn’s shoulder, to try and push them away from each other, but he wasn’t strong enough. If only he was _strong_ enough, like his dad, but his back still hurt and he was just so _tired_.  
  
“Why, he is simply _so_ good at the art of war, I wondered if I should just give up now while I’m ahead of myself. I wondered if I should just simply...send you back.”  
  
Noctis froze, his breath catching in his throat, and he stared up at Ardyn, tried to see if the man was lying. He looked so _friendly_ , he looked like he cared, but it was all a lie. Noctis could still remember Tenebrae only weeks ago, his dad on the ground, bleeding and screaming. And _Ardyn_ had done that. Noctis _remembered_ that.  
  
But what if he would give up? What if he would send them all back?  
  
What if he was telling the _truth_?  
  
“Should I do that?” Ardyn smiled down at him. “Should I send you back?”  
  
Noctis hesitated, then nodded, wincing when the fingers in his hair pulled a little more, his scalp starting to ache and burn with it. It made tears build and sting in his eyes.  
  
Ardyn let out a chuckle, then pulled Noctis further up, closer towards him, and Noctis cringed backwards when he felt lips touch his hair, like his _dad_ used to do, and he squeezed his eyes shut, tried to fight back the sob that wanted to come out of him.  
  
The hand in his hair loosened and the one over his mouth moved away as the man’s arms wrapped around him in a hug. “Yes, I should think _that_ will affect his competence in this war of ours,” Ardyn murmured into his hair. “Sending you back to him, piece by piece. What do you think?”  
  
Noctis heard himself whimper into Ardyn’s jacket and he shook his head, calling out a weak, “Ravus.”  
  
“Hmm? Oh, they’re asleep, dear boy,” Ardyn chuckled. “Would you like them to wake up?”  
  
No sooner had he said it, Luna was awake beside them, sitting up and letting out a frightened cry. That sound seemed to jerk Ravus out of his own dreams, and then Noctis could see the older boy standing beside their bed, glaring down at Ardyn and hissing out, “Let him go.”  
  
Ardyn turned to smile up at him. “I’m only having a friendly chat with our dear boy, here, there’s nothing to be so alarmed about.”  
  
“Let him _go_ ,” Ravus snapped. “Now.”  
  
“I should think not,” Ardyn chuckled, and then he was standing up, a hand gripping Noctis by the arm, dragging him out of the bed before anyone could react. Noctis cried out at the pull on his shoulder and the flare of familiar pain running up his back, scrambling to get his feet under him and remain upright.  
  
Luna was still on the bed, hand over her mouth, eyes wide and bright. “Please, _please_ , don’t hurt him,” she said, and her voice was trembling.  
  
“No promises, I’m afraid,” Ardyn said, still with that amused expression, as if it was all just a game to him. “This war of ours is beginning to get a little too tedious for my tastes, and what better subject to take my frustrations out on?” He turned and smiled down at Noctis. “Perhaps we could make a game of it. We could send recordings to your dear old dad. How do you think he’ll fare then, Your Highness?”  
  
“You cannot _do_ this,” Ravus said. He was still on his feet, hands clenched and shoulders tense. He looked ready for a fight. “You cannot treat prisoners of war this way, it is unlawful and unethical.”  
  
Ardyn seemed to consider that, nodding thoughtfully. “Perhaps, by Lucian and Tenebraen laws and standards, but this is dear _Niflheim_ we’re in, my boy, and I am the _Chancellor_ , after all.” His smile was a lot more cruel then as he tilted his head, his voice more teasing, more singsong. “Anything goes, I’m afraid.”  
  
Luna gasped at that, shaking her head with a small moan. Ravus took in a breath, nodded once, and said, “Fine.”  
  
Noctis only had a moment to gasp before he was being shoved aside, towards the table, and his back collided with the chairs as he toppled over, the crashing noise like thunder in his ears. Ravus didn’t even stand a chance, Ardyn only had to press a hand to his face and push him towards the wall, and he slammed into it with a pained cry.  
  
Luna was yelling something, her voice loud and fearful in the small space, and she was clambering off the bed to make her way towards Noctis. Ardyn grabbed her by the arm before she could make it, however, and pulled her towards the bathroom. “Call me old fashioned, my dear,” he said, and he sounded unfazed by everything that was happening, as if it was any normal visit, “but I don’t think women should bear witness to the wrath of men.” He pushed Luna into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her and shoving a chair under the door handle so she couldn’t get out.  
  
Ardyn turned towards Noctis, smiling sweetly, as if there wasn’t a girl pounding on the door behind him, screaming to be let out. “Now,” he said. “Where were we?”  
  
“Please,” Ravus was stumbling to his feet, a hand held to the back of his head, eyes a little dazed. “You don’t have to take your anger out on him.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
Ravus managed to circle around the older man, making his way over to Noctis, helping him back to his feet, and Noctis bit his lip, trying to ignore the new pains in his body from hitting the chairs. Ravus was keeping his own body in front of him, walking them both backwards until Noctis was pressed against the wall, shielded, hidden away.  
  
“I understand you are angry,” Ravus said, and his voice only trembled a little. “King Regis is frustrating you and you want to lash out, want to unleash your anger. But please, not on Noctis, leave him be. He’s just a _boy_.”  
  
Noctis peered around Ravus to get a look at Ardyn, trying to remain as quiet as possible, his heart pounding so loud he could hear it in his ears. Ardyn was smiling at Ravus, amused again and he chuckled. “King Regis said the same thing, before I took him,” the man said. “Funny, how alike the two of you are. So determined to protect this _precious_ boy. What is so special about him, I wonder?” Ardyn took a step forwards then, and Ravus took one back, further trapping Noctis against the wall.  
  
“You can…” Ravus swallowed. “You can use me instead. Take your frustrations out on me.”  
  
Noctis grabbed the older boy’s arm, his own blood running cold, goosebumps prickling along his skin. “No! You can’t!”  
  
“Shut up, Noctis.”  
  
Ardyn was staring at them, as if he was actually _thinking_ about it, and Noctis wanted to cry. “And why should I?”  
  
“Noctis is a _child_ ,” Ravus answered. He sounded a lot more sure of himself, his voice was strong, and yet his arm was trembling a little where Noctis held onto it. “If you hurt him, there is no guarantee he will be strong enough to withstand it. I’m sure murdering King Regis’s only heir will cause you a _lot_ more trouble than you already have on your plate.”  
  
Ravus took a hold of Noctis’s hand then, squeezing it briefly, thumb brushing over his knuckles, but his eyes never left the other man. And then he was letting go and moving away, taking a step towards Ardyn. “But I _am_ strong enough. You can take your frustrations out on me, do whatever you want. Just _please_ , do not harm the children, either of them.”  
  
“You would give your body to me?” Ardyn said. “You would give up your own safety in exchange for theirs? You would do this, just to protect them?”  
  
Ravus took a breath and nodded. “I would.”  
  
Ardyn smiled again, slow and cold, and there was something _strange_ in his eyes as he opened his arms, motioning for Ravus to step closer. As Ravus did so, as he took those few steps so that the man could wrap his arms around him, Ardyn looked over at Noctis with the sweetest of smiles. “You hear that, Prince Noctis?” he said. “Ravus is so sacrificing for you and the princess. And now anything that happens to him will be because of you.”  
  
Ravus turned his face slightly to look at Noctis, and he looked so sad, more than he had ever been these past few weeks, but there was no more hate, no more anger. Noctis hugged his arms around himself, wanting to rush over there to tear Ravus away from the man, but there was nothing he could _do_ , he wasn’t strong enough, and it was all his _fault_.  
  
Niflheim had attacked Tenebrae because of him. They had all been kidnapped and held prisoner because of him.  
  
And now Ravus would be _hurt_ because of him.  
  
Luna was still in the bathroom, her sobs tiny and distant, and Noctis couldn’t fight his own tears as he let his eyes drift over to their picture, their beautiful picture, and he wished he could climb into it. He wished he and Luna and Ravus could run away into the picture, into Syllebrae, and they could escape this nightmare forever. They would be _safe_ in there. They would be happy and free.  
  
Ardyn wouldn’t be able to hurt them in there. Nothing would ever be able to hurt them in Syllebrae.  
  
But they weren’t there, they were in Niflheim, and there was no way for them to escape.  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
_Far away, somewhere in a place called Duscae, a group of warriors from the Lucian-Tenebraen army are celebrating. They have intercepted and completely decimated a surprise imperial invasion, have prevented the Empire from hurting any innocent people._ _  
_ _  
_ _It’s a small victory, one of many, but a cause for celebration nonetheless._ _  
_ _  
_ _Far away, somewhere in a place called Niflheim, two princes and a princess cling to each other in a tiny and dirty bathroom, the smaller ones helping to clean the older of his cuts and bruises._ _  
_ _  
_ _The other two don’t quite agree, but the older one feels as if he has accomplished something, as if he has won a small battle, and he knows there are many more to come with this new duty of his.  
  
His new duty to take care of the children. Help them. Protect them. _ _  
_ _  
_ _It’s not a time for celebration, but the fact that the children remain safe, for now, feels like a victory of his own.  
  
  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to point out any mistakes/grammar issues/inconsistencies/etc.
> 
> You can find me at tumblr: ivorydice.tumblr.com


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is a _long_ chapter. So long that I had to end chap 4 early, because adding the rest of what was supposed to happen would have just been ridiculous. Like, seriously. _Ridiculous_.
> 
> But we're beginning the time-skip now, we'll be having a look throughout some of the years until we finally reach the present day. Actual present day should happen in either the next chapter, or the one after that. I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING ~~someonehelpmeidontknowhowtofic~~
> 
> **Important:** You've probably realized by now that when I place down "~ &~" that means scene and/or POV change. That's still a thing. And now, whenever you see this: "✣ ❋ ❁ ❋ ✣" (assuming you can see those symbols), that means we're either moving forward or backwards through the years. It's to, like, keep things less confusing??? IDK, we'll see how it goes??? Please, just be patient with me while I get my shit together lol.
> 
> I should probably also start warning for child abuse. There's a small amount of that here. Just a heads up.
> 
> And, obviously, thank you so, so much for the comments and kudos and all the love, it makes me really happy <3 <3

_  
  
M.E. 744  
  
_  
Luna grew to hate the bathroom.  
  
For all of his excuses that it was merely for her own protection - so that she wouldn’t have to witness the “violence of men” as he always put it in his sad, sad voice - it soon became clear that it was merely one of Ardyn’s many cruel mind games. He would shut her in the bathroom whenever he and Ravus would get into their arguments, he would push her in and block the door, ignore her shouts to let her out, ignore the way she would pound and slap at the door until fingers ached and bruised.  
  
But then he would call through to her, he would ask about her opinions on whatever happened on the other side of the door, he would ask her how she was faring, as if he actually _worried_ for her, and he would sometimes mock and tease her if he was in a particularly bad mood.  
  
It was just another game, just another way to hurt her without laying a hand on her. Violence wasn’t the only way to hurt someone, after all.  
  
Sometimes Noctis would be thrown in with her. Sometimes he would turn straight around and bang on the door with her, would shout for Ravus. Other times he would curl up in her arms, shaking, hiding away in her throat like he had done on that first day, when they had clung to each other on an airship that had stolen them away from the people they loved and who loved them.  
  
The bathroom had become both a safe place and a prison, and Luna hated it. She hated that room with every fibre of her being.  
  
The worst thing of all was that Ardyn wasn’t always so mean to them. There were times when he would simply sit with them, speak to them in such a friendly voice and manner, as if there was nothing wrong at all, as if Ravus wasn’t sporting new bruises or Noctis didn’t fall completely silent in his presence, didn’t flinch at any slight movement he made, or as if Luna didn’t feel the need to tiptoe around them and felt the growing anxiety that she might be locked away again.  
  
And it was so much worse, because sometimes it was just so easy to _fall_ for, sometimes it became a comfort, a hope. Maybe Ardyn had had a change of heart. Maybe had decided enough was enough, he wouldn’t hurt them anymore, he simply couldn’t take it.  
  
Maybe he wasn’t a monster after all.  
  
And he would smile down at them and laugh, would play board games with Noctis and tease him playfully until Noctis was staring up at him with a reluctant hope that it was all over.  
  
But it was never over. It always came to an end, sooner or later. The light mood would shatter into a thousand pieces, blowing away like dust on the wind, as if it had never even been real, and Noctis would hang his head and Luna would be left with the crippling disappointment that she had fallen for it _yet again._  
  
She always knew what to expect, and yet she fell for it anyway. It was so very easy to cling to hope.  
  
Ravus took it all in stride. She had never known her brother could be so brave. He seemed to never give into the hope, but he always kept up the act with Ardyn, as if everything was fine, and when things inevitably shattered he seemed to accept it easily, tried to calm Ardyn down, tried to diffuse the situation.  
  
He might not have looked it, but he seemed to be constantly on guard around Ardyn, making sure the man never made a move towards her or Noctis. If he did, Ravus was always there to step in between them. If he ever said anything mean, then Ravus would try and turn the tables, would make his own remarks about Ardyn, regardless of whatever consequences were in store for such behaviour.  
  
There was such a fire in him, despite the situation. It seemed that, just because he was now their protector, he refused to give up his fire, he refused to simply lie down and accept things quietly.  
  
Luna hated what was happening, but she had never felt so proud of him.  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
Surprisingly enough, Ardyn was all for his “gifts”. He brought them almost anything they asked for with a strange sort of glee. He treated them in such a peculiar way, as if he _enjoyed_ lavishing gifts on them, but then he would change, sometimes turn into something cold and malicious if they didn’t react the way he wanted them to, and then he would change once again and would smile and tease them.  
  
It made her head spin, and she had to wonder if he was simply so emotional or if he did it all on purpose. If even his maliciousness was simply another game to him, an act, meant to catch them off guard.  
  
He always, _always_ , brought them more pencils, pens and crayons, as if he knew how important they had become to them all. Despite Ravus’s theory, he _hadn’t_ been angry at their mural, he had simply held a hand out to it instead and had cried, “Oh, what a beauty you have created, children! Such a marvellous work of art, congratulations!”  
  
He brought them books, both fictional and educational when Luna asked for them, he brought them board games - he seemed to enjoy playing chess with Ravus on his visits - and, strangely enough, when he heard Ravus complaining about how _quiet_ it could be sometimes, he brought them a gramophone.  
  
“Why, she’s a dear old thing,” he crooned, placing it almost lovingly on top of the chest of drawers, his fingers running over the case before he opened it up, continuing, “but when I saw her, I knew she was for you. Now you won’t always be in the silence. Isn’t that simply grand?”  
  
She hated herself for it, but Luna _loved_ the gramophone. She loved winding it up, she loved the scratching noises when the records played, she loved how _warm_ it seemed to be, the way the old songs would come out, the brass bands, the jazz music. It reminded her of the music that would float into her bathroom back home. It reminded her of giggling servants and bubbles and sunshine.  
  
Noctis found the gramophone exciting for all of ten minutes, but he seemed to enjoy it enough when she would take his hands in hers and dance them around their room. It brought a smile to his paling face, would make his eyes light up a little, especially when he found that Ravus would watch on with his own smile, and _especially_ on the times Ravus would join them.  
  
So they would lay around the room, books scattered everywhere, listening to the voices of men and women crooning about long lost loves, and they would read their fictional stories, or Luna and Ravus would sit together and help Noctis through some of the more educational books. Sometimes Noctis liked to try on his own, and so Luna would sit back and read her books while Ravus would curl up on his bed and sketch in his new drawing books.  
  
And sometimes they would get up and link hands and skip around, as if they were all Noctis’s age, as if it was all a game. They would simply pretend they were in Syllebrae, they were the Kings and the Queen of a beautiful and peaceful kingdom, simply spending an afternoon together lazing around and taking part in their favourite activities.  
  
It made things bearable on the not-so-good days. It pushed away the reality of it all, as if locking it away in that dreaded bathroom, and they would drown out its own screams and pounding with the music from the gramophone, pretending it simply wasn’t there until the next time it would rear its ugly head.  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
“Come on, Noctis, it’s time for your exercises.”  
  
“I don’t want to.”  
  
They were quick to find that there were many types of bad days. Bad days when Ardyn would be angry at something happening in the war, that things were apparently not going the way he wanted them to. Bad days when Ravus was aching, his body sore from protecting the children, and he would need their help as he got in and out of the bath, they would lean over the tub and help wash him as he gasped and stared up at the dirty ceiling above. Bad days when Luna just seemed so _sad_ , it seemed to wash over her and weigh her down, heavy and thick, and it wouldn’t leave her, making the bright spark in her eyes dull into something hopeless and she wouldn’t want to do anything.  
  
Bad days, like today, when Noctis all but shut down on them, curled up under the blanket, knees brought to his chest, arms wrapped around them, barely answering Luna or Ravus when they spoke to him, and whenever he did it was in a voice that was quiet and hoarse.  
  
“Noctis, you have to try.”  
  
“No. Leave me alone.”  
  
It was as if he and Ravus had completely switched roles. It was an effort to convince him to move, to get him to eat, to do _something_ , and not using his muscles in what little space they had certainly wouldn’t be doing his back any favours.  
  
Ravus rolled over on his bed and watched as Luna tried to convince Noctis to move. She was biting her lip, clearly unsure of herself, but there was nothing to be unsure of. They couldn’t let him continue this behaviour, he _needed_ to do his physical therapy or there was every chance he wouldn’t be able to walk properly ever again.  
  
Luna sighed. “Noctis—”  
  
“Go _away_ ,” Noctis snapped.  
  
Ravus glanced at his sister. “Would you give us some time alone, Luna?”  
  
Luna looked at him in surprise, her eyes widening, but she nodded, pulling her hand away from Noctis’s shoulder as she stood. “Okay,” she said. “I’m going to have a bath.” She gave Ravus a pleading look as she went, clearly hoping he would be able to do something about this, but he could only give her a doubtful shrug in return.  
  
Luna having a bath was a good idea. It meant Noctis didn’t have anywhere to hide if he wanted to try and escape Ravus’s lecture.  
  
He spared a thought for his sister, his heart sinking at how things had become. She was so fearful of the bathroom now, practically dissolved into panic whenever the door was closed while she was in there. It had reached the point where she had to leave the door at least half way open while she was inside, even if she was using the bath. So they respected her privacy, kept out of the way of the bathroom while she was in there.  
  
It was better than hearing her gasps of panic or the way she cried when the door was closed.  
  
Ravus bit back a groan as he rose from his bed and let himself fall down onto the other, right next to Noctis, uncaring at the somewhat offended noise the boy made.  
  
“Go away,” Noctis mumbled.  
  
“No,” Ravus said. “I’m afraid I cannot do that.”  
  
Noctis groaned and rolled over onto his stomach, hiding his face. “ _Ravus_ _—_ ”  
  
“Luna is worried for you,” Ravus cut in. “You mustn’t worry her like this, it isn’t good for either of you.”  
  
Noctis’s voice was muffled as he said, “But she wants me to do my exercises and I don’t _want_ to.”  
  
Ravus sighed. “But it is in your best interests, Noctis. You know what will happen if you fail to keep it up.”  
  
“What’s the point? We’re stuck in here forever, so what’s the _point_?”  
  
Ravus looked over their mural, at the pencil starting to rub away in places they hadn’t yet gone over again. It always seemed to be in constant need of touch-ups and repairs, and he wondered if it was a way of telling just how much time was passing, no matter how slow the days always seemed.  
  
He looked down at Noctis again, merely a shaggy mop of black hair sticking out of a white pillow. He leaned closer, resting his head beside the boy’s, and spoke directly into his ear, quiet but firm. “We are _not_ going to be stuck in here forever.”  
  
“Yeah, right.”  
  
“Besides, that is no excuse. You _must_ continue your exercises.” He paused, wondering if this would be the right thing to say to him, or if it would make things worse. “It is what your father would want you to do.”  
  
Beside him, Noctis tensed up.  
  
“Your father would want you to remain _strong_ , Noctis,” Ravus continued. “Just as my mother would want for me and my sister.”  
  
Noctis was silent and Ravus had to wonder if he was even listening at this point, but then his head was turning a little, a blue eye peaking out at him from beneath his bangs. “But I’m not strong,” he mumbled.  
  
Ravus stared back at him. “Well then, you have to learn to be. You will need to be strong to survive in here, Noctis.”  
  
Noctis swallowed, and when he spoke his voice was small and fragile. “Like you?”  
  
Oh, no, this wasn’t a good thing, to let Noctis look at him like that once again, as if he was someone to be _respected_. Ravus frowned and rolled over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m not strong, unfortunately,” he said.  
  
“Yeah, you are,” Noctis said. “You let Ardyn hurt you for me and Luna, you stick up for us, and you never act scared of him.”  
  
“I do that because I _have_ to,” Ravus said, and it was hard to speak past the lump in his throat. “It is far better that he focuses on me than on either one of you.”  
  
Noctis was silent for a moment, and then, “Why don’t you ever fight back? Why don’t you just hit him when he tries to hit you? Won’t that scare him off?”  
  
Ravus looked at him sharply. “Because violence does _not_ solve anything. Ardyn is a very dangerous man, Noctis, do you understand that? The kind of dangerous that could mean awful things if provoked by such actions. And I am only one person, I have no hope of standing up against him alone. It would be foolish.”  
  
Noctis sat up suddenly, pushing himself up onto his knees. “I could help you,” he said. “We could stand up to him together. You know how to fight, don’t you? You can teach me how to fight and we can fight back, make him stop—”  
  
Ravus shook his head. “Noctis, you are forgetting. You are a _child_. He could knock you down easily.”  
  
But Noctis seemed set on this new idea of his, shaking his head so fast his hair whipped about, his eyes suddenly determined. “You can teach me how to fight so I _know_ _—_ ”  
  
“You would need to be strong for that,” Ravus cut him off again, raising his eyebrows, giving him a pointed look. “And, as of right now, you can barely walk. You would need to continue with your therapy until you would be able to even _begin_ to learn how to fight.”  
  
It wasn’t such a terrible idea. Violence was definitely not the answer to anything, and he would have to make sure such a concept would be wiped from Noctis’s head, so that he _wouldn’t_ think abusing others was the norm, so that he wouldn’t think Ardyn’s behaviour was acceptable. But to give him a goal to work to, right now, wouldn’t be so bad. And if Ravus could teach Noctis how to defend himself, at least, if he could teach them _both_ how to defend themselves, then surely that wouldn’t be such a bad thing either.  
  
“Will you do that for me?” Ravus said. “Will you promise to continue with your exercises so that you can become strong?”  
  
Noctis paused, and then nodded, suddenly so determined for this, his depression washed away as if it had never been. “Okay.”  
  
Ravus could only hope he wouldn’t regret this someday.  
  
 

✣ ❋ ❁ ❋ ✣

  
  
_M.E. 746_  
  
  
Noctis’s dreams of the outside world had been fading on him for some time now. The images were shaky and strange, like they could be blurred if he would just pay enough attention. They were fragile and distant.  
  
It was stupid, because he could remember what outside looked like. He could remember that the sky was blue and the grass was green and his dad had a beard and black hair, almost as black as his own. He _knew_ it, but when he tried to bring up the image, whether in dreams or when he was awake, he just couldn’t quite see it.  
  
When he dreamt of Insomnia, it was always sort of muffled and far away. The world had been hidden away from him, behind foggy windows, but at least he was _there_ , he was somewhere else, he was back home. And he could walk along the pavements and listen to the car horns and the sounds of what had to be millions and millions of people despite that he couldn’t see anyone.  
  
And he could skip along the street with the thought that he was going to the Citadel, to his home, back to see his dad.  
  
When Noctis woke up, it was to the sounds of the locks and the door opening, footsteps echoing slowly as someone else entered the room.  
  
Ravus and Luna were asleep, both unmoving on the beds. Noctis bit his lip, wondering if he should wake them up, but then he found himself frozen when the man closed the door and stepped closer.  
  
He hadn’t been able to remember his face properly. All he could ever remember was the dark beard and the warm smile, the crinkled green eyes, the way he always held his arms out whenever Noctis ran to him.  
  
But now that he could _see_ , he could remember _everything_ , it all came rushing back with a flood of warmth, and Noctis’s eyes burned with it, his chest ached as he reached out and clutched at the jacket, his throat closed up as he choked out, “Dad.”  
  
And his dad smiled down at him. He was there and he was _real_ , he was warm and solid and his voice was so very familiar as he said, “There, there, my boy. I’m here now.”  
  
And his arms were held wide open, his smile loving, and Noctis didn’t hesitate. He climbed up out of the bed, uncaring that Ravus and Luna were still unaware of it all, uncaring that he should wake them up and tell them that his dad was here, he was in Niflheim and he was here to rescue them.  
  
Instead, he stood up and fell into those arms, let them wrap around him and lift him up, the beard scratching against his face as his dad held him close, his warmth seeping into him, into his blood and his bones, and, for the first time in a long time, he felt _safe_.  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
Luna and Ravus remained asleep as Noctis and his dad sat up and talked. They sat at the table together as Noctis showed him his toys, as he showed him the “school” work Ravus and Luna would give him, as he let him flip through Noctis’s sketchbooks. His drawings were bad, they must have seemed _so childish_ to his dad, but he was going to get better at it someday, he was going to be as good as Ravus was, able to create whole masterpieces on a single page. And practice made perfect, right?  
  
But still, they looked so bad, and yet his dad flicked through the pages, a small smile on his lips.  
  
“You are quite marvellous at this, Noctis,” his dad said, and his voice was so warm and deep and rich, and Noctis wondered how he could have ever forgotten such a sound, especially with the way it made his heart pound and his chest hurt and his lips stretch on his face until his cheeks were hurting.  
  
“Are we gonna go now?” he asked. “Should I get Luna and Ravus?”  
  
His dad looked over at the two sleeping figures. “No, let them sleep for now.”  
  
Noctis nodded. “But are we gonna leave? Have you won? Is the war over?”  
  
“It isn’t yet, I’m afraid,” his dad said, and he looked sad when his eyes met Noctis’s. “This war continues, still. I can only be here for a short time.”  
  
Noctis stared at him and he could feel his smile dropping, could feel something cold settling over him like a blanket. “But…” he swallowed and blinked quickly, fighting back the tears that wanted to spring up, “I thought you came to get us. You came to save us.”  
  
“And I _will_ save you, my dear boy,” his dad leaned closer then, and his large hand was cupping Noctis’s cheek. Noctis closed his eyes and nuzzled into it as his dad said, “My sweet boy. You will be safe here, and I will come and visit whenever I can. I promise.”  
  
He suddenly wanted to shout at his dad. He wanted to yell and scream and throw his sketchbooks at the wall, because _no_ , this _couldn’t_ be right, they _couldn’t_ stay here any longer. If his dad could come here of all places, then surely he could find another place for them to stay, another safe place, surely he could sneak them out somewhere. What was the point in coming to see them if he was just going to leave them behind?  
  
But his dad was a warrior, he knew all about war, and so it _must_ have been a bad idea to sneak them out if he wasn’t doing it already. Maybe there were soldiers from Insomnia all over the place, protecting their little room, guarding it, waiting until they _could_ be broken out.  
  
Or maybe his dad had somehow snuck inside, maybe they were still surrounded by enemies and his dad had to be careful. Maybe screaming and throwing books would alert someone else, a guard maybe - because there _had_ to be guards around, right? - and then his dad would get caught and they would lose everything.  
  
“Don’t tell Luna or Ravus about this,” his dad said suddenly. “I don’t want you to get their hopes up, especially if Ravus is hurt. I can’t get him medical help just yet.” He smiled at Noctis and lifted a finger to his lips, making a slow ‘shushing’ motion. “So I’d like for this to remain our little secret, okay?”  
  
Noctis looked back at Luna and Ravus. They were still so quiet, completely unaware of their visitor, and they hadn’t moved an inch this whole time. It made him shiver.  
  
“Noctis?”  
  
“Okay,” Noctis said quietly, nodding at him. “Okay, our little secret.”  
  
It was only later, when he was curled up beside Luna again, did he wonder how his dad had known Ravus was hurt.  
  
And why he had called her _Luna_ instead of _Lunafreya_ , like he usually did.  
  
  
~&~  
  
  
It went on for a while. It wasn’t every night, unfortunately, but there were quite a few times when Noctis would wake up to hear his dad coming into the room, or he might already be sitting over at the table or down on the bed beside him, and Noctis would feel that _warmth_ again, that happy feeling, the relief and the joy and the excitement.  
  
And they would stay up together and read through books and play games. One time they had played for _so long_ that Noctis had slept in past lunch time the next day.  
  
And still Luna and Ravus never woke on these visits. They never jumped awake, never shifted, nothing.  
  
Noctis could remember the _last_ time they had been so still, on the night Ardyn had come to him and had started hurting Ravus. He could remember the fear and the shouting and Luna crying.  
  
But this was his _dad_ , and he would never let that happen again, even if he wouldn’t help them escape just yet.  
  
“Can we leave yet?” Noctis would ask him on his visits.  
  
His dad would sigh and shake his head. “Not yet, I’m afraid. A little while longer.”  
  
It was frustrating how his dad was now keeping them here and was refusing to let them out, but he just had to trust that he knew what he was doing, that he would know when the best time for escape would be.  
  
It was almost all worth it for the times he could sit in his dad’s lap, ignoring how _babyish_ it seemed, and he could stay snuggled up to him, face pressed into his neck, listening to the way his dad’s voice rumbled through him as he read from one of their many books, large fingers stroking through his hair.  
  
It all fell apart on the day he let their little secret slip out to Luna and Ravus.  
  
It was just some silly little comment he made without thinking. Ravus and Luna were talking about “maintaining the room”, wondering how they could ask Ardyn for more cleaning things, and he said, without thinking, “Won’t matter, since the war is nearly over. We’ll be gone soon.”  
  
Maybe it was the way he had said it, maybe it was something else, but they both stopped what they were doing and stared down at him as he continued working on his picture. He really wanted to get this picture done _just_ right for when his dad next visited, hoping it would impress him, hoping it would bring that smile to his face again.  
  
But Luna suddenly sat down next to him and snatched the pencil away. “Hey!” Noctis snapped and got up onto his knees, glaring at her. “Give it back, I need that.”  
  
“Tell me what you meant first, and then you can have this back,” Luna said sternly.  
  
Noctis frowned at her. She seemed so _bossy_ sometimes, as if getting older gave her the right to tell him what to do, and he was getting sick of it. Maybe it was his jealousy, that ugly little monster making him bitter towards her, _and_ Ravus. Because they both seemed older now, they _looked_ older, getting taller, starting to look more like grown ups, and meanwhile Noctis was still small and skinny and a _kid_.  
  
They were all he had left and he felt like they were leaving him behind. It wasn’t a nice feeling.  
  
“Noctis,” Luna said, her eyebrows raised in the way she did when she was being serious with him. “Tell me what you meant.”  
  
Noctis bit his lip. He wasn’t _supposed_ to tell them, his dad had made him promise to keep it a secret. He could kind of understand that, he didn’t want them to get excited about something yet, but he could barely keep it to himself anymore either. “Dad told me,” he blurted out, before he could stop himself, and then he clapped a hand over his mouth.  
  
Ravus had been colouring over some of the pencil on their Syllebrae mural, but he had completely stopped now, marching over and staring Noctis down as he still knelt on the floor. “What do you _mean_ your father told you?” he said. He had a funny look in his eyes. It looked almost as if he was worried.  
  
Noctis shifted and found himself picking at his knuckles, uncomfortable with the way they were looking at him. Were they angry with him? Would they shout? Would Ravus yell at him like he did to Ardyn, would he throw things around and make loud banging noises? “Um…” Noctis glanced down at his fingers, then looked over at their mural, at _anywhere_ but them. “I mean—my dad told me. He said that we still have to wait here for a little while longer, but it’ll be over soon. We’ll get to go home soon.”  
  
“Noctis,” Luna said, and she had the same look as Ravus, that same weird and worried look, “Noctis, it’s not nice to play games like this.”  
  
Noctis shook his head. “I’m not playing games, it’s the truth! He’s here, he’s in Niflheim, and he comes to visit me at night when he can, and—and we play games and he looks at my drawings and, uh—” their looks weren’t getting any better, and it made him falter, made him more nervous and jittery, and he picked at his knuckles until the flesh was stinging, saying “—um...he reads to me? I swear, I’m telling the truth!”  
  
Ravus crouched down in front of him, frowning. “Noctis, you know that isn’t possible.”  
  
Noctis stared at him. “What do you mean?”  
  
Ravus and Luna were glancing at each other, as if talking without even using any words, and then Ravus was looking at him again. “Noctis,” he said, his voice gentle now, soothing, the same tone he used when Ardyn had left them all and they had to help each other remember they were safe again. “If your father was in Niflheim and if he had managed to get into...this _place_ multiple times, then that would mean the war was over. And if the war was over, then we wouldn’t be kept in here any longer.”  
  
“But—” Noctis glanced up at Luna and she was nodding. Noctis shook his head and moved his fingers onto a fresh knuckle. “No, that’s not right. I _saw_ my dad, I talked to him. He said the war isn’t over and we have to wait a little longer.”  
  
“Noctis,” Luna said, “don’t you think that, if your father came to you, he would have helped you escape by now? He wouldn’t want to leave you in here any longer than you have been already.”  
  
“He said we had to _wait_ ,” Noctis insisted, his eyes burning, because they didn’t _believe_ him, why didn’t they believe him? They were acting like he was making it all up, like it hadn’t happened at all, but his dad had visited him, he had played with him and they had spent time together. “He said it was safest for us to stay here for now.”  
  
Luna sighed. “Noctis—”  
  
“No!” Noctis snapped at her. “No, I’m not lying, it was real! My dad came to see me! He’s here and he’s gonna save us, I just know it.”  
  
He couldn’t understand why they looked so _devastated_. This was good news, this was _happy_ news, his dad was going to win the war and they would be free soon.  
  
So why did they look so sad? Why did they watch him with worried eyes even as he snatched his pencil back and laid back down to finish his drawing, the one he was making of him and his dad?  
  
Why?  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
He knew it was real. He _knew_ it.  
  
So why hadn’t they believed him?  
  
Fingers stroked through his hair and up and down his back, slow and soothing. His dad’s warmth wrapped around him. He was _real_ and he was _here_ , he was with them, and still Luna and Ravus slept through it. He could wake them up, rush over to them and _show_ them that he was right, but he still felt kind of angry and sad about the whole thing. Betrayed, almost.  
  
They should have believed him.  
  
“You’re sad,” his dad murmured into his hair. “Why are you sad, little one?”  
  
Noctis shook his head and buried his face into his dad’s shirt, close to his throat.  
  
His dad chuckled and his big hands took hold of his shoulders, pushing him back a little to look down at him. “Come, now, you know I hate to see you sad,” he said. “Tell me what’s wrong, and we can fix it together.”  
  
Noctis bit his lip. He had broken his promise, he had told Luna and Ravus about him when he _shouldn’t_ have. Would his dad hate him for that? Would he be angry? Would he stop visiting?  
  
No. His dad was nice. His dad was warm and kind and loving, always helping him when he was hurt or upset about something, always forgiving him when he did something wrong like smashing an old vase or spilling something on important paperwork.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Noctis mumbled.  
  
His dad tipped his head. “Whatever for?”  
  
“I…” Noctis looked down at his fingers. Some of his knuckles had scabbed over, but he didn’t really like picking at scabs, it felt too weird. “I told Luna and Ravus...about you. About you coming here.”  
  
His dad’s face went strangely blank. “You told them?”  
  
“Yeah,” Noctis squeezed his eyes shut, hating that he was about to cry, in front of his _dad_ of all people. “I’m sorry, it just came out! And they didn’t even believe me, they acted like you aren’t real, but I told them that you _are_ and that—”  
  
“Oh, _children_ ,” his dad muttered, sighing, almost as if he was tired, or annoyed, or maybe even disappointed. “Can’t keep secrets to save their lives, can they?” Fingers reached out and touched Noctis’s chin, tilting his head up so he had to look into his dad’s warm smile, but it was strange now, there was something strange about his smile and his eyes as he said, “Oh well. We had fun together, at least, didn’t we?”  
  
Noctis frowned. “What—”  
  
“Get away from him!” Ravus yelled, and Noctis jumped, turning in time to see Ravus beside them, grabbing Noctis’s arm, dragging him away from his dad. Luna was jumping out of bed too, pale and mouth open in horror.  
  
Noctis struggled against him. “No, what are you doing?” he yelled at him. “Stop it!”  
  
“Get _away_ from him,” Ravus was snapping and pulling him further away, towards the bathroom. “Noctis, come here.”  
  
“No, _stop_ it! It’s my dad, see?” Noctis turned and shoved at Ravus’s stomach, pushed him away, and he backed towards his dad as the man stood up. “See? I told you, I _told you_ he was real, didn’t I? My dad’s here and you didn’t believe me.”  
  
Luna was shaking her head, hand pressed to her mouth. “Noctis,” she said weakly. “Noctis, _no_ , that isn’t your father. Just—come here, sweetie. Come to me.”  
  
Noctis shook his head and turned to his dad, looking for help, looking for comfort - _Why wasn’t he saying anything? Why wasn’t he helping him?_ \- because surely his dad knew how to tell them to stop acting in that weird way, surely he would tell them the secret now—  
  
Except it wasn’t his dad he was looking up at, it wasn’t his dad’s jacket he was clinging to. Ardyn was smiling down at him, looking almost puzzled. “I think you’re confused, little one,” he said. “Did you think I was someone else?”  
  
“Please, don’t hurt him,” Luna said. “Please, just—Noctis, come _here_.”  
  
Noctis could only stare up at Ardyn. He looked down at the chair where his dad had just been sitting, he glanced around the room, but he wasn’t there. His dad wasn’t there.  
  
Had he ever been there?  
  
Arms wrapped around him from behind and Luna started pulling him backwards. Noctis let her, he didn’t put up a fight as she and Ravus helped him into the bathroom, the door slamming shut behind them.  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
They stayed in there for a long time, even after Ardyn had left. Noctis sat on the floor, curled up against Luna, his face pressed to her throat, but he couldn’t move as she rocked him and shushed him and ran a hand through his hair. She didn't even seem upset about the door being closed, which was weird.  
  
“I don’t get it,” he mumbled. “It was my dad.”  
  
“Shh, hush now,” Luna whispered back. Her fingers were shaking in his hair and she was looking up at Ravus, but Noctis couldn’t see their faces to guess what they were thinking.  
  
It didn’t matter anyway, because all he could think about were the nights his dad had visited him on. The times they had played together and had read books together. His dad had even helped him with his school work. He had liked his drawings.  
  
“But it was my dad,” Noctis said.  
  
“It’s all right,” Luna replied. She hugged him closer, wrapped her arms around him once more, and her voice was strained as she said, “You will be all right. You’re going to be just fine.”  
  
A weird thing to say, because he was already fine, there wasn’t anything _wrong_ with him.  
  
So why would she think there was?  
  
 

✣ ❋ ❁ ❋ ✣

  
  
_M.E. 748_  
  
  
In the lands beyond Niflheim, the news of the Oracle’s murder and the abduction of her children had travelled fast. Throughout Tenebrae, to Accordo, to Lucis, to all the cities and villages, no matter how big or small. Regis and those working for him had made sure that the story had spread far and wide, to make sure _everyone_ knew just what atrocities Niflheim had committed.  
  
Unfortunately, the news had never spread to Niflheim itself, and its people had no idea just what their Empire had done. That it had murdered one Oracle and had absconded with the other.  
  
The idea came from Cor Leonis.  
  
More council meetings with yet more paperwork spread out on the large table. Multiple copies of pictures of children that had been edited with a computer in an attempt to guess what they would look like now, four years after their abduction.  
  
“The best way to cause civil unrest,” Cor said, and everyone grew silent at his voice, “is to spread it from the inside. If we cannot send the message to them, then have it sent _from_ them.”  
  
The woman opposite to him stared him down. “What are your suggestions?”  
  
“We have already had people on the inside. Even now, we have men and women on the outskirts, scout teams monitoring any activity.” He paused, letting his eyes slide over every one of them, until his gaze landed on Regis. “It won’t be the first time we have infiltrated imperial lands. Your Majesty, I propose we have some of our men infiltrate the capital.”  
  
“And then what?” another council member said. “Shout it from the rooftops?”  
  
“Something better than that,” Cor replied, and he took the folder resting in front of him, opened it up to reveal the papers inside, schematics of some electronic device. “The Empire has managed to block every news communication we’ve sent out, but they cannot block signals coming from their own stations. At least, not straight away. If we can hijack one of those station’s radio waves, then we can get a message out. Every citizen who listens to it will hear of the truth.”  
  
Silence, broken only by the sounds of paper as the schematics were passed from one person to another, eventually landing in front of Regis.  
  
“A difficult plan, perhaps,” Clarus said, “but better than anything else we have so far. We only need a few citizens to listen to the broadcast for the seeds of doubt to be sown. After that, the very fact that the Oracle has not been out preparing for her duties these past four years is telling enough. What say you, Your Majesty?”  
  
Regis said nothing as he pushed the schematics aside, looking, instead, at the glossy computer generated photograph before him. A boy of twelve years, beautiful blue eyes, the same as his mother’s, with black hair falling over his face. His face would be less round now, less soft, perhaps even beginning to show the signs of puberty.  
  
_Four years_.  
  
Regis ran a finger over the image and nodded. “Let it be done.”  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
“So, we’ll be taking some more calls in, around, the next ten minutes or so, but _right now_ I wanna talk ab—”  
  
“—And we’re back! Phew! Sorry to anyone tuning in just now, we’ve been having some problems with our power for the past couple of hours, but, don’t worry! We’ve got some repair guys coming straight out to fix it. Mondays, right? Don’t you just love them? It’s Tuesdays that are the worst, I think, you’re stuck _right_ in the week and you’re not even halfway thro—”  
  
“—You know what, folks? This is how you drive someone insane, I swear. Today will be the day I go crazy! Live on air! But, hey, it wouldn’t be this show if we didn’t go crazy from time to time, right? That’s what we love about it. So! We’re gonna take some music requests soon, right after we take your phone calls, but _first_ , if the power will _let_ me, I wanna talk about this new damn fashion trend that’s going around. Yeah, you know the one I’m talking about! Yeah! The one with the—”  
  
“—Hey, what’s—”  
  
“—And now for the news. His Royal Majesty King Regis Lucis Caelum visited Tenebrae today to mark the fourth anniversary of the death of Sylva Nox Fleuret, the former Oracle and Queen of Tenebrae.  
  
The King of Lucis issued this statement from Fenestala Manor, once home to the Oracle and her children, _“Today will be the fourth year of our shared and continuous grief. The day we lost comrades, friends and family. But fear not. There will come a time when we will be able to bring_ peace _to this world of ours. This war cannot go on forever, and, when it ends, our children, so wrongfully stolen away from us, they will be returned to us once more. That I promise you. You have my word, as King of Lucis, I will not stop until they are freed from Niflheim and are returned to us, until they are home once again.”_  
  
The Queen’s death was reported after an imperial invasion which resulted in the casualties and deaths of many Tenebraen and Lucian citizens, as well as the abduction of the heir to the throne, Prince Ravus Nox Fleuret, his sister and expected Oracle, Princess Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, and the heir to the Lucian throne, Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum. An official statement from the Citadel in Insomnia declared that King Regis and his son were visiting Tenebrae for personal matters at the time.  
  
When asked about Princess Lunafreya and her duties as Oracle, King Regis gave the following statement, _“Lunafreya cannot perform her duties as Oracle while she still remains a captive inside Niflheim. I know this is frustrating news to many of you, but, unfortunately, Niflheim ceases to listen to reason on the matter.”_ _  
_ _  
_ Niflheim refuses to comment on any matters regarding the children still held in captivity.  
  
And in other news—”  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
_Security footage taken from inside the building shows a young man sitting at the booth. One of the station’s more popular hosts, he appears to be frustrated as the power to the station keeps failing, sometimes for minutes at a time. Whenever the footage blinks back on, he seems more and more aggravated, swinging in his chair while he tries to talk into the microphone, running a hand through his dishevelled hair._ _  
_ _  
_ _At one point, apparently distracted by something happening outside his office, he gets up and leaves the booth entirely, as if forgetting he has a show to run._ _  
_ _  
_ _And, almost instantly, two figures walk through the same door the host had just walked through. Masked men, instantly playing around with the controls at the booth, they clearly know what they’re doing as they rig up a small device that was tucked away in their bag. One of the men notices the camera and steps closer for a moment, holding up his middle finger._ _  
_ _  
_ _After a minute or two, they grab their stuff and rush out, and it’s only a moment after that when the host returns, eyes wide and panicked as he looks around, immediately coming over to the microphone to speak rapidly and nervously to the many, many people listening to him through their radios._ _  
_ _  
_ _A few minutes was all it took, and any damage control after that is weak and shaky at best._ _  
_ _  
_ _The masked figures are never seen again._  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
Ardyn came to them with his usual jovial attitude, smiling at them almost secretively as he let the door close behind him. “Guess what, children, guess what? I have some _wonderful_ news!”  
  
“Have you caught a disease and you’re going to die?” Noctis answered flatly, not even bothering to look up from his sketchbook as he carried on with his latest piece. Luna winced, hoping Ardyn wouldn’t lose his temper at the comment - he was so very _quick_ to anger, after all - but she was surprised to find that he seemed somewhat amused instead.  
  
“Wouldn’t that be funny?” he said, staring at Noctis. “No, no, it’s something else! Something you’re simply going to _love_. I promise!” He waited until they were all looking up at him in silence, then leaned forwards, his voice almost teasing as he said, “Someone is going to be getting a change in scenery.”  
  
Ravus was sat at the table, where he straightened up immediately, frowning. “What do you mean?” he demanded.  
  
“There has been a change of circumstances and we have to act accordingly,” Ardyn smiled over at him pleasantly. “So someone is going to be...not set _free_ , exactly, but they are going to get to see the outside world. You remember that place, don’t you? Blue skies, fresh air, no walls?”  
  
No one said a word.  
  
And still Ardyn kept smiling. “Can you guess who the lucky winner is?”  
  
Luna kept quiet, fearful that if she opened her mouth then she might give voice to the terrible part of her that hoped _she_ would be the one to go outside. But, no, that wasn’t _fair_ of her to think. Ravus and Noctis, they deserved to see outside more than anything.  
  
Ravus, still sporting bruises and a few new scars, still as determined as ever to protect both her and Noctis from any physical violence Ardyn had to offer. His hair was longer now, he liked to keep it nearer to his chin, cut awkwardly with the safety scissors they used. His face was almost as pale as his hair, a little gaunt, his eyes constantly smudged with shadows.  
  
He deserved to go outside, after everything he had sacrificed for them.  
  
But Noctis, _still_ a child, only twelve years old. Could he even remember what outside looked like at this point? Could he remember the colours, the sights, the smells? He certainly liked to draw such things in his sketchbooks, but it hadn’t taken her long to realize that he was simply using their Syllebrae mural, as well as some of the pictures in their educational books, as a reference. And he was just as pale and just as thin, sickly almost, too small for her liking.  
  
_They_ deserved to go outside. Either of them. _Both_ of them.  
  
But still….  
  
“Why, Lunafreya, congratulations! You’ve won the prize!” He held his hand up and in front of him, as if speaking into a microphone, and he came closer to where she sat on the edge of Ravus’s bed, holding his invisible object out to her as he said, “I’m sure this is a momentous occasion for you! Tell me, how do you feel?”  
  
Luna stared up at him, speechless, and looked over at her brother. He was watching Ardyn with a frown, but when his eyes landed on her, she was surprised to find that he didn’t seem angry or jealous. He didn’t hold any grudges against her.  
  
Noctis was as still as a statue where he sat on the other bed, his back to the wall of sylleblossoms, pencil held tightly in his grip as he stared down at his picture.  
  
“Why?” Luna looked back at Ardyn, almost wincing at how strained her voice seemed.  
  
Ardyn smiled down at her, almost _kindly_ , but nothing about this man was _ever_ kind. They all knew that very, very well. “To fulfil your calling,” he said. “There are many sick people that require healing, and it is the Oracle’s duty to give them such.”  
  
Her _calling_. Her mother had always told her about what was to be expected of an Oracle, she had taught her about her duties and what she would have to do, she had helped to train her so she knew how to use those gifts.  
  
But it had all been seen as a _potential_ future, she knew that much. King Regis and her mother had had plans in place, especially with this war, hoping to ensure them all a future in which they _wouldn’t_ have to follow in the footsteps of their parents. And her mother had still had plenty of years ahead of her at the time of her murder.  
  
No one had ever expected her sudden death. It could never have been predicted. And, despite her wishes, despite her plans, Luna was now the Oracle regardless.  
  
“Well, I suppose you could always refuse to do so, if you would rather remain here,” Ardyn said at her silence. “I mean, it’s only the lives of the people, isn’t it? It’s just so many innocent and _sick_ people, crying out for their Oracle, hoping for her return.”  
  
Luna glared at him.  
  
“You said she won’t be set free,” Ravus spoke up suddenly, still watching Ardyn carefully, drumming his fingers on the table. “What does that mean, exactly?”  
  
“Ah, brotherly concern, how touching,” Ardyn smiled over at him, earning a hard look, and he rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue. “It means exactly _that_ , dear Ravus. She is still in Niflheim’s custody, and she will remain so until stated otherwise.”  
  
Luna frowned. “What happens while I am outside, then?”  
  
“You will be taken to a…” Ardyn paused, squinting his eyes as if in thought, “A _designated_ area, and you will remain in that area until your healing duties are done for a time. Then you will come right back here, and you will remain here until you are called once again.”  
  
It seemed like quite a hassle, the idea of being carted back and forth like that. Still, the people needed her. Her mother had performed her duties beautifully and faithfully, and it was Luna’s duty to follow in her footsteps, to carry on her mother’s work. If she turned her back on the sick and the needy, then what would that make her?  
  
But leaving here would mean turning her back on Ravus and Noctis. She would be _abandoning_ them, leaving them behind. She would be seeing the outside world, something they could only _dream_ of, and that idea felt so very wrong.  
  
“You should do it, Luna,” Noctis said quietly. “You’re the Oracle. People need you.”  
  
Luna stared at him, and he smiled back, faintly, in return, as if he was trying to reassure her. When she looked over at her brother, he was nodding a little, even if he seemed tense.  
  
Luna lowered her eyes and nodded, murmuring, “Fine. I’ll do it.”  
  
“Excellent,” Ardyn said.  
  
“I swear to all of the gods,” Ravus said. “If something happens to her while she remains away from here, then I will make you pay, Ardyn.”  
  
Ardyn smiled. “Oh, I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, Ravus.”  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
“Are you certain this is all right with you?”  
  
Noctis smiled up at her, rather weakly, sitting on the edge of the bathtub and swinging his feet a little. “Yeah. You need to go and do your duties. And…” he looked off to the side, “it means you get to go outside. You should get to go outside, Luna.”  
  
“So should you,” Luna sighed, her heart aching as she stared down at him. “I hate the idea of leaving you alone like this.”  
  
“Nah,” Noctis huffed out a laugh, looking down at his feet, “I’ve still got Ravus. He’s a grouch, but he’s okay.”  
  
“I heard that,” Ravus called from the other room.  
  
Luna managed a weak smile as Noctis pulled a face, his “sneering Ravus face”, and a jolt of affection ran through her for these boys, _her_ boys. She watched as Noctis continued to swing his feet back and forth and he smiled back shyly, his eyes lowering.  
  
She had been given strict instructions that she would not be allowed to speak to anyone but the people she would be healing, and even then it could only be limited to brief reassurances. She shouldn’t have been surprised at such rules, but she was.  
  
Still, she had almost been hoping she could, _somehow_ , get a message out to King Regis. What did he know of this? Did he know she was being let out? Did he even know they were still alive in here? Had he given up on them, on Noctis?  
  
Luna let out a sigh and sat down next to Noctis on the edge of the tub, uncaring if it would leave any marks on her brand new dress. She had been given actual _shoes_ too, with _heels_ , and Ravus and Noctis had both unashamedly _laughed_ at her as she had practiced walking back and forth on them for an hour, on legs that were more than a little wobbly.  
  
Gods. What was she doing? She didn’t know what she was doing.  
  
“I bet it’ll be strange outside,” Noctis said after a moment. “You nervous?”  
  
“A little,” Luna admitted. “I’m not really sure what to expect.”  
  
Noctis smiled up at her. “Well, as long as you don’t _completely_ embarrass yourself by falling over in those shoes, then it should be okay, right?”  
  
Luna gave him a playful glare. “I’d like to see _you_ walk in them, mister.”  
  
Noctis scoffed, loudly and exaggeratedly, and her chest ached again. She would be away from them for _gods knew_ how long. She wouldn’t be able to see this boy’s lovely smile, wouldn’t be able to have her spirits lifted by his silly little jokes, wouldn’t be able to comfort him when he was upset.  
  
He tensed when she wrapped her arms around him, when she pressed her cheek to the side of his head. “Uh, Luna?”  
  
“Please, you must promise me,” she said quietly, “Promise me you will take _care_ while I am gone. Especially whenever Ardyn is here.”  
  
A hand touched her arm, patting her gently. “Don’t worry, Ravus has been teaching me how to fight, remember? If Ardyn tries anything, I’ll punch him in the balls.”  
  
“Noctis!” Luna pulled back, trying for a stern look, knowing she was failing miserably. “Wherever did you learn such _language_?”  
  
“From a book,” Noctis smirked up at her, eyes sparkling mischievously.  
  
Ravus appeared in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the frame, eyebrows raised. “I think we shall have to review every book we have and confiscate the more mature ones. Little boys should not be reading things beyond his age.”  
  
“I think you’re right,” Luna smiled.  
  
Noctis groaned.  
  
Ravus looked over his shoulder at a noise from the other room, then turned back to Luna. “Ardyn is here,” he said. “Time for you to take your leave.”  
  
Luna nodded, her throat suddenly closing, her words becoming stuck as she pulled away from Noctis and stood. She brushed her hands over her dress and stood in front of the mirror as she fiddled with her hair. Her heart was already pounding, her hands were shaking, and she hadn’t even gotten out of the _door_ yet. “How do I look?” she asked, turning to Ravus and Noctis, trying to stand up straight, trying to act confident.  
  
Ravus smiled down at her, and it was affectionate and chastising and mocking and loving all in one. He leaned forwards and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You look beautiful,” he said. “You look like an Oracle. Make mother proud, yes?”  
  
“Make _us_ proud,” Noctis gave her a weak smile.  
  
Luna smiled down at him, ignoring how her eyes were watering as they wrapped their arms around her, as she held them both in return. And her hands were still shaking as she stepped towards Ardyn and the open door, turning to her boys one last time to say, “I shall see you soon.”  
  
They waved at her, and she couldn’t help but think they looked so small and so sad as the door closed, shutting them away.  
  
And for the first time in four years, she was outside of their prison.  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
“In light of the recent rumours that the Oracle and Princess of Tenebrae, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, is currently in the custody of Niflheim and refrained from carrying out her duties, Emperor Iedolas Aldercapt himself released the following statement, _“These..._ rumours _are simply that. Lies. Issued by those who do not understand the inner workings of our great nation. The princess has remained in our care, this I do not deny, though the idea that she has been held back from her duties is an amusing accusation indeed. Nay, we were merely waiting until she was of an appropriate age, lest we place a terrible burden on one so young. Having said that, she will now take up her duties and seems very pleased to do so. Niflheim is delighted to be caring for such a strong and inspirational young woman.”_  
  
Niflheim has declared a neutral zone in the south-east, close to the land’s border, in which any acts of war are prohibited and the area is to be used strictly for the Oracle and those visiting her. Any inquiries that she might be accompanied by her brother, Prince Ravus Nox Fleuret, and Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum of Lucis, have not been answered.  
  
Lucis has yet to release a statement on these recent events.”  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
She only had a brief moment to see the corridor outside their room - long and pristine and _bright_ \- before she had a sack pulled over her head and her wrists were bound. It was so very like that day long ago, when they had first been brought here, and she froze, unsure as to what was happening, unsure what to do.  
  
“Do forgive me for messing up your hair, my dear,” Ardyn’s voice drifted to her ears, “but you understand that we cannot allow you to see the way in and out of this facility. It’s a rule for all prisoners, royalty or not. Silly matters and rules of war, such tedious little things.”  
  
Luna blinked beneath the hood. “Facility?”  
  
“Facility, prison, building, structure, bolts and beams, whatever you’d like to call it.”  
  
Her legs still shook a little as she was led down the corridor, and she realized those strange, echoing noises were from _her_ , those were her heels, and it felt so very strange to hear, the sound of it and the endless walking when she was so used to being in one room. “Are there other people here, then?”  
  
“That is of no concern of yours, Princess. Do come along now, we mustn’t waste any more time.”  
  
It was as tiring and dizzying as that first day four years ago. The seemingly endless walking, the twisting and turning, not knowing which direction she was going. So many noises, so many things to try and focus on, and yet she couldn’t make sense of any of it, and it made her heart pound in her chest.  
  
She wished Ravus was here, to help her stay strong, to remind her to keep her head high and to not let anything scare her. She wished Noctis was here, so she _had_ that motivation to stay strong, so she could focus on protecting him instead.  
  
But they weren’t here. They were still locked up in that room.  
  
She was led onto an airship. She only knew that fact when the engines started up and they were lifted into the air. Luna was allowed to sit in an actual seat this time instead, her hands clasped together, twiddling her thumbs as she tried to fight back her nervous shivers while Ardyn paced in front of her.  
  
“You will be under guard at all times, you understand. You will address the public in your initial speech, but beyond that you will speak to no one but those you are healing. The guards will escort you to and from the hotel you will be staying in while you are there. Oh, and most of all, Your Highness—”  
  
A hand grabbed her chin through the hood, and Luna fought back a flinch, grateful he couldn’t see her face.  
  
“Don’t try anything stupid. The consequences won’t be pleasant.”  
  
Luna bit back any retort she had as he let go.  
  
She wanted to scream at him. Just what else could he possibly do to her, to _them_? He had tormented them for years with his stupid little games, playing nice one moment and then acting mean the next. He had beaten Ravus countless times with threats to do the same to Noctis. He had locked them away, ignoring the way they wilted like dying flowers, ignoring the way they slowly went insane from the boredom and the fear and the seclusion.  
  
So what else could he _possibly_ do to them?  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
Seeing the outside world for the first time in four years nearly brought her to tears. It was just so _bright_. The sky, such a clear, crystalline blue, vast and endless above them. And the sun, the _sun_ , providing the tiniest amount of warmth despite the cold, snowy streets around them, but it was as bright and beautiful as it had ever been, greeting her like an old friend.  
  
Locked away in a room, it had been so difficult to remember just _what_ the sky and the sun looked like. She had her memories, but it was like trying to grasp at half-remembered dreams that were slipping through her fingers like sand.  
  
Now, standing before them, she had no idea how she could have ever forgotten.  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
Ardyn didn’t stay for long. He exuberated a pleasant attitude as he showed her the hotel room she would be staying in, as he introduced her to the guards that would constantly watch over her - armed, _human_ guards, what had ever happened to those robotic guards she could remember from so long ago? - and as he escorted her to the armoured vehicle she would ride in.  
  
The healing zone was apparently a mile or two outside of the closest town, the one she would be staying in, and Ardyn was happy enough to tell her about it when she asked some polite questions. It was an old military base, long abandoned, and would now be used as temporary guest lodgings for the sick that would seek her aid. The civilians had to make it through a checkpoint near the border, and then would be escorted to and from the base by imperial soldiers.  
  
“A gesture of goodwill from our mighty Emperor,” Ardyn said with a smile. “How generous he is, to allow people past the border, for them to come and go without harm, even those from far away countries such as Lucis, or even your own homeland.”  
  
“But not generous enough to allow me to visit them myself,” Luna couldn’t stop herself from saying.  
  
“Come now, Princess, don’t sully the mood.”  
  
Luna ignored him. His Emperor was generous, indeed, to keep her on a chain like this, and to have people travel into such dangerous territory while they were _sick_ , when it would be far kinder for her to visit them instead.  
  
A gesture of goodwill. There was nothing _good_ about an empire that held no qualms with keeping children locked up for years without seeing the sun.  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
The plan was for her to make an appearance today, to address those gathering to see her, and then return to her lodgings to prepare for the healing that would begin tomorrow.  
  
And it was only as she was being escorted by the soldiers to the podium that she began to panic. She didn’t have a speech prepared, wasn’t she supposed to have a speech prepared? Was that what her mother did? Had her mother planned it out beforehand, or had she always let the moment guide her?  
  
She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know what to _do_.  
  
There were so many people gathered to see her, and she hadn’t seen other faces in so long, only Ravus, Noctis and Ardyn. And here were other people, _so many_ different faces and hair and clothes, she couldn’t help her small smile upon seeing them all. Ardyn had told her that many had been excited to come and see her. Some were the sick she would be treating, some were those accompanying them, some were visiting from Gralea and other towns within Niflheim.  
  
She wondered if there was anyone from Tenebrae or Insomnia here. She found herself quickly scanning the faces, trying to find someone familiar, not sure if she was happy or disappointed when she couldn’t see one.  
  
Would her speech reach King Regis? Would he be able to hear her words today, possibly his first confirmation that she was alive?  
  
The crowd was cheering and clapping as she stepped up to the podium on the stage, the people and the military base before her, a large wall behind her, and, beyond that wall, snowy fields that stretched on for miles. She wondered if the people’s cheering could be heard from far away, if her voice would drift out along those fields.  
  
Luna took hold of the podium, let her shaking hands reach out to the edges of it to grip on tightly, those guards assembling behind her. She looked out over the crowd and, more than anything, she wished that Ravus and Noctis could be here with her. They should have been here to see this too.  
  
She tightened her fingers around the edges of the podium, took a deep breath, and thought of her mother. Thought of how strong and brave she was, how she had always been _so strong_ for those she would heal, giving them countless reassurances, trying to let them know with everything she had that things would be okay.  
  
Almost the same way she would do for Noctis now.  
  
“My friends,” Luna said, and almost jumped at the way her voice echoed out over the crowd. They quieted instantly, ready to listen to her every word, as if entranced. Luna ignored her pounding heart and continued, “It is an _honour_ to see so many faces here today. I thank you all for taking the time out of your lives to come and see me here. And for those of you who are sick and weary, I thank you _especially_ for making the journey.”  
  
The crowd was trying to cheer again, and she fought back a smile, fought back the hope that she might be doing well. “I also thank His Imperial Majesty for the accommodations he has supplied us all with here,” it was a struggle to keep her voice even and neutral, repeating the words Ardyn had told her to say, “A kind and noble gesture, it is a ray of hope in the dark times we are in.”  
  
She clenched her hands on the podium. _It isn’t_ , she wanted to scream. _My boys are still locked away in a room,_ she wanted to tell them. _I refuse to believe the Emperor has any good in his heart while they remain in there. This is all a pretence, a trick, a deception. Can’t you see? Can’t you_ see _?_  
  
Luna looked out over the faces again, trying, trying, _trying_ , to find someone she might know, someone from Tenebrae maybe, someone from Lucis. A small, _small_ flicker of hope that she might see King Regis’s face amongst them, trying to find them, trying to find any sign that his son was alive.  
  
Someone shifted behind her, and she was all too aware of the guards with their guns. But, surely, they wouldn’t hurt her, despite Ardyn’s warnings of not ‘trying anything’? It wasn’t as if they _could_ hurt her, not in front of all of these people, whether she was Oracle or not.  
  
“I may be young,” she said into the microphone, “but my blood is true. As Oracle, as my mother before me, I will see to those of you who are hurting, I will see to your loved ones, and I will do all that I can to help. I can only hope to comfort and inspire you as you have done for me today. I can only hope that I will make you all proud of me, as I am proud of you for remaining as _strong_ as you all are.” If they noticed the way her voice broke a little at the end, then she couldn’t tell, she couldn’t see their faces past the way her tears blurred and burned her eyes.  
  
Coming out here, being released into the world to see the blue sky and so many faces and to _hear_ the world, the way it bustled and sang with so many lives, instead of that horrible stillness in their little room - this was the worst kind of torture. Ardyn was a cruel, cruel man, but this was far more cruel.  
  
_I can help you all, but I cannot help my boys. I cannot help Ravus and Noctis._ _  
_ _  
_ _And it isn’t fair._ _  
_ _  
_ _It isn’t_ fair.  
  
“And King Regis,” she forced her voice to remain strong despite the way it was strained, she gripped at the podium, let it hold her weight, “King Regis, if you can hear this, then _please_ , I beg of you, have hope. We are _alive_ , your son is alive, and he waits for you in Niflheim—”  
  
There was a strange noise behind her, several noises, and the crowd before her seemed to be growing restless, panicked, some gasping and pressing their hands to their mouths as the guards behind Luna grabbed her. And this was the worst idea, this wasn’t _strong_ , her mother wouldn’t have done this, but _gods be damned_ , she _wasn’t_ her mother and she wasn’t going to act as if there weren’t other prisoners being refused to see the light of day.  
  
She had to fight for them while she could.  
  
Luna fought against the armoured hands grabbing at her arms. “He awaits you _still_ , from within a facility here in Niflheim!” she cried into the microphone, speaking only to King Regis now, the faces before her no longer important. She could see to them later, she could speak with them later. She might never get another chance to speak to King Regis. “And we have not lost our faith in you, we _have faith_ in you! Do not lose hope, Your Majesty, do not lose your strength, and we will await the day you bring justice to us—”  
  
Something struck the side of her head and she went down. There were screams and yells from within the crowd now, horrified and angry and scared, but Luna could only focus on the multiple guns pointed towards her, the barrels aimed at her face and her body, the guards crowding around her as she tried to crawl backwards and away.  
  
There was blood on her head. She could feel it, trickling down the side of her neck, and she raised a hand to her hair in surprise, staring down at the crimson colour coating her fingers.  
  
“Lunafreya!” someone yelled.  
  
“Princess Lunafreya!” another one screamed.  
  
But none of it mattered. She ignored them as a guard reached down and grabbed her by the arm, hauling her to her feet. She stumbled a little, but she couldn’t fall, not with the guns still aimed at her, not with the way they all surrounded her. But they couldn’t open fire, they couldn’t kill her, not right now. Perhaps not ever. She didn’t know much about politics and war, but she knew that killing her could cost the Empire dearly.  
  
“You will return to the van,” one of the soldiers said.  
  
She refused to let them intimidate her. Luna glared at their shielded faces, holding her head high, and reached a hand out to knock one of the guns back, stepping past them all. The soldiers followed, practically shielding her from view as she was led back towards the vehicle, where they would escort her back to the hotel. They seemed oblivious to the angry shouting at their backs, the restless crowd trying to get past other guards, but the sound of it helped to lift something inside of Luna’s chest.  
  
As brash and stupid as they had been, she couldn’t bring herself to regret her actions. Hopefully they would reach King Regis, and hopefully he could take _some_ comfort in her message to him.  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
Ardyn had returned surprisingly quickly, bringing a radio along with him and looking excited. Noctis had been busy drawing a moon on the wall, above the Insomnian-like Citadel, a crescent moon with a kind face like in one of his books, but he had instantly felt the need to stop and watch Ardyn, a little more wary now that he was in the room with them, letting the door slam shut behind him like usual.  
  
“Why, I thought we could listen to the new Oracle’s speech,” he had said, still smiling that happy smile. “This _is_ a momentous occasion, after all. An Oracle’s ascension is nothing but exciting for all the people.” And then he had sat down at the table, as if he was _welcome_ , holding his portable radio out so they could listen as Luna’s voice and the roaring crowd came through the single speaker.  
  
Noctis bit his lip and tried to focus on his drawing again, tried to fight down that brief flash of jealousy. Luna got to go outside, she got to see what it was like, while he and Ravus had to stay behind. With _Ardyn_.  
  
But he couldn’t be mad at her for it. It wasn’t like she had asked for it herself, and she had felt bad enough about leaving them behind, she had wanted them to go with her. It wasn’t her fault. And at least _someone_ got to go out. At least she got to go and perform her duties.  
  
And she sounded strong and sure of herself over the radio, she spoke as if she wasn’t quite often a scared girl who got locked away in a bathroom. She sounded _so strong_ , and Noctis stopped drawing so he could stare at the radio, feeling a mixture of surprise and pride that she managed to go through what she did and still act like everything was fine.  
  
And then she was speaking differently, she was speaking to his _dad_ , and there were the sounds of people shouting in horror, gasping and crying out at whatever was happening, and still she sounded desperate over the speaker, calling out to his dad about where they were and how they would wait for him.  
  
Noctis’s heart was pounding in his chest long before he realized that Ravus had frozen in place, and long before the expression on Ardyn’s face darkened.  
  
“ _Children_ ,” Ardyn said eventually, and he almost sounded normal, _almost_ , except he crushed the radio within his hand, actually _broke_ the radio until there wasn’t a sound coming from it anymore and until it was cracking into pieces, the shards raining down onto the floor. Ardyn looked up at them both, smiling a little. “They’re simply more trouble than they’re worth, aren’t they?”  
  
He stood then, taking a single step forward, and Ravus was already getting to his feet and placing himself between Ardyn and Noctis. “You cannot blame her,” Ravus said. His voice was steady, as brave as always, as if he _wasn’t_ clearly about to face some sort of punishment. “She just wants to go home.”  
  
“Yes, well, we _all_ want _something_ , Ravus,” Ardyn said. “But we must obey rules and act with a touch of decorum. Not go screaming away at a speech like some silly little child.”  
  
“In case it has escaped your notice,” Ravus snapped. “Luna is _hardly_ a child anymore, and neither am I. You should stop referring to us as such.”  
  
Ardyn smiled a little then, but there was still something very dark and angry in his eyes, something that had Noctis’s neck prickle with sweat. It was going to happen all over again, he would grab Ravus and hurt him and _beat_ him, leave him black and blue, maybe even _bleeding_ , and there was nothing Noctis could do about it. There was nothing he could _ever_ do about it.  
  
“Do forgive me,” Ardyn said. “When you reach my age, it gets a little harder to see the young as anything _but_ children. Especially after performances like _that_.”  
  
He stepped forward again, and Ravus stepped back, still keeping himself in front of Noctis. “Again, you cannot blame her,” he said.  
  
“I warned her, Ravus,” Ardyn crooned. He reached his hand out, let it land on Ravus’s shoulder gently, fingers stroking up the side of his neck. Ravus remained completely still. “I warned her not to do anything so foolish, as the consequences would not be pleasant. And she disobeyed me anyway.”  
  
Noctis bit down on a knuckle, pressing himself back into the wall. He was still on the bed, couldn’t move from his spot, but he wanted to rush over there and grab Ravus away from that terrible man. He wanted to _save_ him and protect him, like he always did for Noctis, and yet at the same time he didn’t dare move, something within him telling him to stay still. As if it could help him become invisible.  
  
Ravus sighed and his shoulders slumped a little. “Just get it over with,” he muttered.  
  
Ardyn stared at him in silence, and then nodded. “Very well.”  
  
But then he was dragging Ravus to the bathroom, the same way he always did with Luna, and Ravus looked shocked for a moment, as if he didn’t quite understand. Then something within him seemed to snap and he started struggling for _real_ , started pushing against Ardyn and fighting back in a way he hadn’t done for a long time, but it was useless, it was so completely useless as Ardyn managed to shove him into the bathroom, slamming the door shut and shoving a chair under the handle.  
  
Trapping him inside.  
  
Noctis could only stare, his blood going cold as he listened to Ravus yelling on the other side of the door, slamming at the wood, and Ardyn was in the same room as Noctis, smiling down at him as if nothing was wrong, he was with _Noctis_ , he was—  
  
“Come here,” Ardyn said.  
  
Noctis couldn’t move.  
  
Ardyn let out an angry noise and marched forwards. Noctis flinched, tried to scramble backwards, but Ardyn had a grip on him suddenly, a hand around his throat and shoving him onto his back, pinning him to the bed.  
  
“No, you’re not—” Noctis choked out, grabbing at Ardyn’s coat, trying to push him away and unable to do anything, unable to stop himself from trembling. “You’re not supposed to hurt me. You _swore_.”  
  
Ardyn raised an eyebrow at him. “I thought you would have been in complete favour of me hurting you instead of your dear Ravus,” he said. His free hand came closer, the backs of his knuckles stroking down Noctis’s cheek. “Isn’t that what you always beg for? For me not to hurt him?”  
  
It was, and he hated himself for thinking it, but having Ardyn’s attention like this, having his hand wrapped around his throat, was so _terrifying_ , it wasn’t really any better than seeing Ravus get hurt. “Please,” he whispered. “Please don’t.”  
  
“Oh, don’t worry, little prince,” Ardyn said. “I won’t hurt you too much. This is simply a warning for your darling Lunafreya.”  
  
The hand around his throat clenched suddenly, and Noctis felt his eyes go wide, he clutched at the hand, tried to pull it away, but he could never do anything against Ardyn. He tried to remember all the things Ravus had been teaching him about fighting, the punches, the defense moves, but Ardyn was like a brick wall above him, solid and strong and unmoving, and Noctis couldn’t think of anything beyond the _I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe_ _—_  
  
Was he going to die? Was Ardyn going to kill him?  
  
_Could_ Ardyn kill them?  
  
The hand released some of the pressure around his throat, and Noctis gasped, took in what breath he could, flinching as Ardyn leaned down to murmur into his ear, “Everyone seems so set on ruining my plans.”  
  
Inside the bathroom, Ravus was still yelling and hitting at the door. Noctis tried to listen to what he was saying instead, to find _some_ form of comfort, but he was unable to focus on anything but Ardyn.  
  
“Your father, to start with,” Ardyn said. “He and that queen, just simply going ahead and changing _everything_ , as easy as that. And now Luna, little Lunafreya, your darling princess, making her _public_ cries for help.” The hand tightened around Noctis’s throat again, cutting off his breathing, and he clawed at the wrist above him desperately. “Even His Imperial Majesty, His Most _Splendid_ Excellency, wastes everything I throw at him. I have given him the gift of true power, I handed certain victory to him, and he _squanders_ it all, lets it all crumble between our fingers.”  
  
“Please,” Noctis croaked out. _Why do you have to hurt me for it? Why do we have to go through this for it?_  
  
“I waited for so long, only to watch it fall apart like this?” Ardyn was staring down into his eyes now, brushing his thumb along Noctis’s cheek when a tear fell. “Perhaps I _should_ simply kill you now. Get it over with.”  
  
Noctis shook his head. He tried to claw at the man’s wrist again, to pull those fingers away from his neck, and then, when that failed, he slapped both his his hands against Ardyn’s shoulders. His vision was going dark, his heartbeat roaring in his ears, his body slowly becoming heavier and weaker.  
  
He didn’t want to die. He wanted Ravus. He wanted Luna. He wanted his _dad_.  
  
And then Ardyn said, “No. I shan’t kill you now, I’ve put far too much effort into this war for it all to come to _this_.” And then he was letting go, leaning away from Noctis and getting to his feet. He wanted to keep an eye on him, to make sure he wouldn’t do anything else, but Noctis could only cough and wheeze, curling in on himself as he clutched at his throat.  
  
Something scraped along the floor and a door opened, and then— “What have you _done_ to him?” Ravus shouted. Hands grabbed at Noctis, clutched at his t-shirt tightly, and Noctis jumped, he panicked, thrashed and tried to move away until he realized it was _Ravus_ , Ravus was back, Ravus would help him.  
  
“Ravus,” Ardyn’s voice was smooth and cheerful again, the anger vanished as if it had never been there, “There is no cause for alarm. He’ll be fine.”  
  
“You call this _fine_?” Ravus sounded _furious_. “You had no right! You were _never_ supposed to lay a hand on him, you gave me your word!”  
  
“And your sister was never supposed to act out, yet she did so anyway. I warned her of the consequences, Ravus. This will teach her to never disobey me again.”  
  
Ravus’s hands clenched on Noctis’s t-shirt, and Noctis curled his body into the older boy, hid his face away. “So you punish Noctis for her disobedience?” Ravus said.  
  
Ardyn sounded amused when he spoke. “Some actions just help the message hit that much harder.”  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
It was only a short trip, a sort of trial run as it were. Despite what had happened at her speech, Luna was allowed to carry on with her duties, and she ignored any voices of concern as she spent the next few days tending to the sick and needy. She avoided their questions and their comments, only speaking when she wanted to reassure them that she would heal their wounds and illnesses.  
  
And healing she did. Oh, the _healing_.  
  
It was so strange. Back in their little room, she was never aware of the _thrumming_ beneath her skin, inside her veins. This _warm_ feeling, running through every nerve inside her body, she had never felt it until she had come away from the facility. It was as if it only ever existed outside.  
  
But she could feel it now, constantly, and even stronger on the times she actively _reached_ for it.  
  
And confusing still, how it faded away while she was in the airship and flying back to her prison. Her body went cold not long before they landed, and when she _reached_ for the feeling, grasped for her power, it was gone. As if it had vanished or been taken away from her.  
  
How very strange, indeed.  
  
She could ignore having her head covered with a sack again, with being led from the airship and through the corridors, because she was going to see the boys again. Spending days without them, sleeping in a room without them, not speaking to them, it had all been so terribly strange and _lonely_ , and she _missed_ them. So she could ignore it all, for once a little impatient to see their room again.  
  
Ardyn was sitting at the table when she stepped inside. She hadn’t seen him since the first day of her trip, and something about his expression now had the hairs on the back of her neck standing on edge. Ravus was sitting on his bed, tense, sketching in one of his books, but it was clear he wasn’t really focused on it.  
  
Noctis wasn’t there.  
  
“Welcome home, Your Highness,” Ardyn smiled up at her, wide and friendly, but something wasn’t right. “I trust you had a pleasant trip?”  
  
“Where is Noctis?” she asked quietly.  
  
“Seeing all of those people must have done your soul some good,” Ardyn continued, as if she had never spoken, “Healing them, bringing them peace. Was it soothing to you? I imagine it was.”  
  
“ _Where_ is Noctis?”  
  
“An Oracle is such an inspiration to the public, such a strong influence,” Ardyn said. His smile dropped suddenly, and he looked up at her with a disapproving stare. “Especially when she goes against some parting advice from her _dear old friend_ , the Chancellor.”  
  
Luna froze. She _had_ , she had ignored his warnings and had caused a scene, had reached out to King Regis, had incurred the wrath of imperial soldiers for so many people to witness. Was she going to be punished now? Was that why he was here? Was he going to show her the consequences of her actions?  
  
And Ravus wouldn’t look at her when she tried to meet his gaze. With the way his shoulders were tense, she couldn’t tell whether he was anxious or angry. He wouldn’t look at her, why wouldn’t he look at her?  
  
She swallowed, feeling a little sick with nerves, but she forced herself to hold her head high anyway and repeated, “Where is Noctis?”  
  
Ardyn rolled his eyes. “Did it ever occur to you that he could simply be in the other _room_?”  
  
“Noctis?” Luna called out, marching over to the door immediately, wincing at how loud her heels sounded in this room. Everything was so quiet in here, so closed in, so _claustrophobic_. “Noctis, I’m back!”  
  
“Luna?”  
  
Oh _gods_ , why was his voice so hoarse? Luna’s breath caught in her throat and she rushed into the bathroom, slammed the door open the rest of the way, and she stopped.  
  
He _seemed_ fine. He was crouched over the bath, cleaning bottles by his side, cloth in one hand, clearly scrubbing away at the tub. He was simply _cleaning_ , it was his turn to clean the bathroom, but something wasn’t right, he shouldn’t sound like that, he shouldn’t—  
  
Noctis smiled faintly and dropped the cloth, turning to face her. “Hey,” he said, in that awful, _awful_ voice, hoarse and croaked and _pained_ , as if he could barely _speak_ _—_  
  
His throat was dark. It was all she could look at as he came close, as he wrapped his thin arms around her waist and hugged her. She could barely breathe herself, crouching down a little so she could examine the skin, her fingers barely brushing against the bruises— _gods_ , those were _bruises_ , his throat was injured, it was clearly a handprint around his neck.  
  
“What happened to you?” she croaked, her voice suddenly weak, her eyes watering, blurring the way Noctis’s face turned sad before her, the way he looked off to the side.  
  
“I warned you of the consequences,” Ardyn said, suddenly behind her, leaning in the doorway. She turned to look at him, feeling _betrayed_ despite everything, because he had sworn he wouldn’t lay a hand on her or Noctis, that was his whole _arrangement_ with Ravus, and yet here Noctis was, badly bruised and barely able to speak.  
  
Luna swallowed past the lump in her throat. “You did this to him? You _hurt_ him?”  
  
Ardyn rolled his eyes, and she hated him for how _unaffected_ he was by this, at how _casually_ he treated the fact that he had hurt a child. “I told you not to try anything foolish, and you did so anyway,” he said, as if that was _any_ excuse, as if that _justified_ any of his actions.  
  
“Then punish _me_ ,” Luna choked out. “I should be the one to pay for my stupidity, not him.”  
  
“Oh, little Oracle, this _is_ your punishment,” Ardyn sighed heavily. “And now you know never to act out in such a way again. For if you _do_ , our sweet little boy here will suffer the consequences.”  
  
“You _monster_ ,” Luna spat. She wrapped her arms around Noctis’s shoulders and held him to her, as if she could _shield_ him from any more pain, except he had already been hurt, he had already suffered and it was _her fault_. “You’re a monster.”  
  
“Am I?” Ardyn smiled. He approached them both, stood behind her and let his hands rest on her shoulders. She pulled into herself, further hugging Noctis, ignoring how _cold_ and strange Ardyn’s hands felt. It almost prickled against her skin. “Then, dear princess, what are you? If you are so eager to act out in a way that would result in the harm of a child, what does that make _you_?”  
  
Noctis stared up at her with wide eyes and he was shaking his head, trying to offer her comfort, but all she could focus on were those dark bruises lining his throat, so very dark and cruel and _violent_. And it had been her fault.  
  
“We are all monsters, I’m afraid,” Ardyn murmured. “It’s just a matter of finding out what type of monster we are.”  
  
  
~ &~  
  
  
The Oracle’s speech travelled far and wide. Throughout the entirety of Niflheim, to her homeland of Tenebrae, to the shores of Accordo, and all the way through Lucis.  
  
After four years of silence, there was finally some proof that she was alive.  
  
What unsettled Regis were the reports that came out in the following days.  
  
Niflheim’s official statement was that there had been an accident at the speech, faults within the construction of the stage had caused Lunafreya to fall and hurt herself, but she was later reported to be in good health and the culprits behind the shoddy work would be reprimanded for their mistakes.  
  
Civilians that had attended the speech reported otherwise.  
  
They reported that the imperial soldiers guarding the Oracle had been violent with her, had tried to pull her away from the podium as she made her desperate plea to Regis - and the _strength_ and _hope_ in her voice, it had both warmed and unsettled him - and, when she refused to cooperate, one of the guards had struck her with the butt of his gun. She had fallen, blood in her hair, surrounded by weapons, and then she had been led away.  
  
The people who reported such things, whether it was to their friends, to coworkers, to radio stations, they soon stopped speaking about it, abruptly changed their statements, or they disappeared entirely.  
  
It was telling enough.  
  
Lunafreya might have been quickly absconded with and had returned the next day apparently speaking nothing of it, but she had dealt a blow of her own to Niflheim. Its government was no longer seen as trustworthy or honest with its citizens. Regis and his council had been looking for a way to cause civil unrest and, between their hijacking of a radio station and Lunafreya’s public outburst, this was the biggest seed of doubt they could have ever hoped to have planted.  
  
The press inside Niflheim had managed to snap a few photographs for their newspapers. Regis’s few men on the inside had managed to send some back to him.  
  
There was no sign of Noctis or Ravus. They were clearly being kept somewhere else while Lunafreya was escorted around for her duties, and Regis’s heart ached at the idea that they could be in a similar state as the new Oracle.  
  
She was bundled up in warmer clothing for the colder climate, but there was no mistaking that she was a little too thin, her skin frighteningly pale, shadows under her eyes and making her look almost sickly. But she was _there_ , she was alive and growing up, she was a young woman now. Despite her exhausted appearance, she looked strong, there was that fire in her eyes that Sylva had always carried around proudly.  
  
Regis could only hope that it was the same for Ravus and Noctis. He could only hope that his boy was trying to remain just as strong.  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to point out any mistakes/grammar issues/inconsistencies/etc.
> 
> You can find me at tumblr: ivorydice.tumblr.com


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